The Son of Hecate
by hockeygoalie1992
Summary: Two hundred years ago, Hadrian Peverell, son of Hecate, sacrificed his life to save another. After two hundred years in the Underworld, he has been reborn into the Potter family. Pairings unsure, further summary inside.
1. Audience With a Dead Man

**Disclaimer: I do not own the **_**Harry Potter**_** or **_**Percy Jackson and the Olympians**_** series respectively, nor do I claim ownership to any of their characters. I also do not claim ownership to any references of **_**Negima!**_**, **_**Merlin, **_**or any other franchises that may be referenced for purposes of magic.**

**Hello there, readers! I'm hockeygoalie1992 and this is my second story posted on this site. This fic was voted on by readers of my other story "Harry Potter and the Power Pack" back in April; my idea was to have Harry Potter as the son of Hecate, goddess of magic, through the method of rebirth (up to three times, I believe) mentioned in the **_**Percy Jackson **_**series. I plan to have some of the important bits and pieces of Harry's past life told through a series of flashbacks that either he or the gods and goddesses involved will have in memory of the odd, yet heroic son of Hecate. Be warned, you won't get the full story of his past life up front or in one full shot, you'll get what the given gods and goddesses recall based on what they're reflecting on. The full story of his past life will be told later on.**

**This story, unlike my other one, will feature a loving Potter family and friends and a manipulative Dumbledore. As I said for my other fic, I will try to avoid excessive bashing of individual characters. Understand that they are human, so they aren't flawless.**

**I will note that some of the magic that I will have Harry use will be references to the ancient Greek and Roman battle magic from the **_**Negima!**_** manga, as I think he would hold knowledge of that considering his immortal mother, and some magic from BBC's **_**Merlin **_**series. Some of these characters may be mentioned in magical text (i.e. Harry reading a book written by one of them). If you have a series that you know of with similar magic or origins, shoot me a PM and we'll talk about it. I appreciate your opinions, but I want to understand your suggestion so I don't mess it up.**

**Chapter 1: Audience With a Dead Man**

Apollo, god of the Sun, was uncharacteristically nervous. He was, though he'd never admit it out loud lest his adorable little sister use it to tease him, a bit of a goofball; he would rather flirt with girls or spout whatever half-baked poetry first came to mind than actually taking his godly duties seriously.

Today, he was, perhaps, the most serious he'd been since the days of the times of ancient Greece. Excluding a certain incident that occurred in the late 1700s. The very incident that brought him to his Uncle's realm in the Underworld.

Apollo shifted in his seat and surveyed the meeting room that Hades had provided him, attempting to take his mind off that dark day nearly two hundred years ago. A day he regretted almost as much as Orion's death.

If there was anything Apollo hated, other than his baby sister getting hurt, it was failure in his capacity as the god of healing. While he would give a, literal, thousand watt smile and say he was fine if he couldn't completely heal some poor demigod, in private he would let it all out. He would rant, rave and berate himself for his failures, and this was no exception. How could he forgive himself for failing his own friend? He had failed to save the only man other than Orion to earn his sister's respect, but, unlike Orion, this boy had Apollo's approval and respect as well.

Oh, how Apollo wished he could go back and change it all. How he wished he would wake up and find it all to be just a dream, one of his prophecies. At least then he could muster all his power as god of healing and save that boy, and spare himself the memory of watching those eyes that once seemed to sparkle with joy and mischief cloud over and adopt the dull stare of a dead man as the body finally shut down. He gave an involuntary shudder as he unwillingly recalled the state of this man's withered body laid out on his own desk in his home as he died in unimaginable pain.

As if that wasn't enough, the fact that Artemis was present as he suffered and Hecate, the poor boy's mother, burst into the house just in time to see her beloved son breathe his last only added to the sun god's misery. Apollo felt his eyes burn as tears threatened to fall; the pain suffered by both immortal women on that day was enough to break his heart. He'd not only failed his friend and sister, he'd failed to save Hecate's son, her baby boy.

He swore under his breath as he waited. Didn't his Uncle understand what the word 'urgent' meant? Or did he know that forcing Apollo to would give him more time to mope and reflect on his past failures? He couldn't be that cruel… could he?

Who was he kidding? If Hades knew how severely this was torturing him, he'd probably find a way to make Apollo wait a millennium just to spite him. After all, the favors Apollo had called in only granted him an audience with the man, not when it would actually happen. Perhaps he should've called in a few more.

These incoherent musings did nothing to distract him from his recollections, much to Apollo's annoyance. He sighed in frustration as the scene played out in his mind, as vivid and haunting as the very day it happened.

**Flashback – New York City, New York October 1783**

It started out as a normal day for the god of the Sun. He was visiting New York City, little more than a month after the end of the Revolutionary War, seeing how the people were reacting to the sudden absence of monarchial rule.

The gods could feel the change in the location of Western ideals; the shift had started slowly in the last few decades, but they were now becoming more concentrated in the former British Colonies here in the New World. With Olympus' change of location inevitable, the gods and goddesses had decided to go out and test the waters.

Officially, this meant that they were supposed to be learning the ideals of the people and plant the seeds for further application of the democratic ideals of Ancient Greek society.

Unofficially, every god and goddess save Hera, Artemis and Hestia were searching for worthy mortals to have children with. Well, that was the stance that some like Zeus and Poseidon were taking, but Apollo had always been a bit more of a romantic than his short-tempered father and uncle. This is what brought him to Manhattan Island today; the sight of a beautiful young woman with long blond hair caught his eye a few days ago and he just couldn't keep her off of his mind.

Her name was Mary Williams. Her parents had come over from England prior to the Revolution and were surprisingly sympathetic to the Revolutionary cause. Her father had ended up making a fortune by making weapons for the Revolutionary soldiers and offering them a place to hide in the basement of his workshop.

"So, you see, Mary," Apollo said, grinning at the look of interest on his date's face as they walked through the garden, enjoying the colors of the leaves and the taste of the Autumn air. "Now that we have rid ourselves of King George and his oppressive rule, we Americans can finally make our own way in the world. We are free to make our own laws and elect our own government."

"Americans?" She asked with a slight smile. "I thought that the rest of the former Colonies were going to go their separate ways after the war, you speak as if we are all going to unite under one banner again."

"Well, wouldn't that be for the best?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "The British won't take defeat lying down, you know. It took thirteen colonies to beat them back, it will take thirteen colonies to defend the new nation."

Mary frowned slightly, not liking the prospect of another war mentioned so soon after the bloody Revolution. "A fair point, I suppose, even if it is a bit cynical."

Apollo maneuvered himself in front of her and grasped her hands in his. "Forgive me, my dear, but I am only thinking of the future of this land. I know the prospect of war so soon after losing so many good men for our freedom is horrible, but we must still be ready. Even if my prediction is flawed and war is farther off than I think, it is better to be united and prepared to defend the nation than fragmented and unaware of danger."

"I understand. But could we please change the subject to something happier? I've had just about enough of war to last me a lifetime."

"Now that, we can agree on," Apollo answered, grinning as an idea came to him. He knew exactly how to brighten her day and score some brownie points at the same time. "I suppose I could divert my attention to how radiant you look today, in fact, I think I heard the Sun itself complaining that even it couldn't match you."

Mary blushed heavily at the Sun god's praise. She knew his true identity; he hadn't even bothered trying to keep it a secret from her. To receive such high praise from an immortal, let alone one as important as _the_ Apollo was enough to leave her a blushing, stuttering mess. Something very few mortal men could accomplish.

Apollo's grin, somehow, widened further at the reddish hue spreading across his date's cheeks. He just couldn't help himself sometimes, especially since Mary looked beautiful with that particular shade of red coloring her face. He opened his mouth to give her another compliment, but he was cut off a very familiar voice.

"APOLLO! HELP!"

An Iris Message opened up mere inches from his face, causing Mary to squeak in shock as the visage of a young girl with auburn hair and alluring silver eyes appeared before her. She looked toward Apollo, only to find him looking at the girl with a look that suggested they were familiar with one another. "Apollo, who on Earth –"

"My sister, Artemis," He answered, still a bit unsure of what was going on. His sister rarely spoke to him outside of the annual Solstice Council and the occasional brother-sister bonding day (something he insisted on a couple centuries back), and usually those discussions involved her sniping at him for his poetry or womanizing tendencies. As he briefly considered the oddity of this appearance, he noticed that she seemed flustered. Her normally tame hair was unkempt and her skin looked pale, odd when he considered that she was outside in the wilderness literally every day. Looking closer, he found something that nearly caused his heart to stop: her eyes. Her normally sharp, almost predatory eyes had a look of a lost little girl who didn't know what to do and… was she starting to tear up?

If someone had caused his baby sister to cry… well, there wouldn't be very much left of him to bury after Apollo had his say. "Sister, what troubles –"

"Apollo! I need you here now!" She babbled; her voice strained with grief. " 'Tis urgent!"

Apollo made to question her, but a new sound stopped him in his tracks. Screaming. Yes, he heard it clearly now. Someone on Artemis' end was screaming in pain. He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding; at least Artemis wasn't hurt.

"Sister," Apollo began, trying to calm her down. "Slow down and start from the beginning. What is going on?"

Unfortunately, his calming tone did nothing for Artemis. She continued babbling as tears started to fall freely down her face. "I-I don't know! I just- We just came back and h-he was screaming as if his insides were burning! We have tried ambrosia, nectar, everything! Nothing works!"

"Sister!" Apollo cut in, realizing that she was too shaken to tell him the full story. "Take a deep breath and tell me whom you are talking about."

"H-H-" Artemis closed her eyes, trying to fight back her tears. "Hadrian Peverell."

**Flashback End**

The sound of opening doors jarred Apollo out of his memory, much to his relief. It was painful enough to remember the look of helplessness on his sister's face that day; he didn't want to remember watching Hadrian breath his last mere seconds before Hecate burst through the door. Nor did he wish to remember how his sister had gone from a happy goddess of the Hunt who tolerated men after meeting Hadrian, to the man hating goddess she was before.

Hadrian was an exception, she claimed. No man before or since had ever been like him. To a point, Apollo had to agree with her; Hadrian was special, all of the gods saw that.

Two figures stepped through the door. The first was a tall man wearing black robes that seemed to be made of writhing shadows, the god of death, Hades himself, had deemed this worthy of his time it seemed. Apollo had to admit, while his father, Zeus, might be known for his dramatic entrances, Hades knew how to show that he owned the room with the way he carried himself.

The second man was much shorter, and didn't seem nearly as interested in cutting an intimidating figure, he walked with a much more casual, whimsical air, almost as if he was trying to hide the fact that he could preform feats of magic not seen since Merlin himself. Apollo drew in a sharp breath, Hadrian Peverell looked exactly as he remembered. His jet-black hair was untamed, almost windswept, and his piercing green eyes gave him the feeling that the owner was looking _into_ him, as if searching his true form. Hadrian's clothing was pretty standard for a wizard; one could call it simple considering the wealth of the Peverell family. He was dressed in the same white shirt, black pants, shoes and cloak as the day he died. The day Apollo failed him.

Apollo rose from his seat to greet his Uncle, though his mind was still reeling at the sight of his old friend. He hadn't come to the Underworld to visit after Hadrian's death; he felt too much shame to do so. If there was one thing that Apollo tried to forget most in those two hundred years, it was the fact that Hadrian never made it to his seventeenth birthday, his coming of age in the magical world. Hecate never got the chance to give her boy his gift, yet another thing that Apollo cursed himself for.

He brought himself out of his self-loathing and greeted his host. "Lord Hades," He began in his 'business tone'. "Thank you for graciously allowing me an audience with Hadrian today."

Hades' sneer changed to a slight smirk before he spoke in his drawling voice. "Welcome, nephew, and your request was, for once, something of interest to me. I can honestly say that I'm happy to cooperate on this issue." Seeing Apollo's surprised look, he chuckled. "Don't look so astonished, Apollo. After all, you know too well of how often Hadrian aided the gods in his short life. I, too, am among those who are indebted to him for aiding my children in years past."

"Excuse me," an English accented voice interjected, causing both gods to simultaneously turn towards him. "I really do hate to interrupt this conversation, but I just can't help but notice that I seem to be the only person in this room that doesn't know why we're all gathered here."

"Ah, yes," Hades replied. "Forgive us, Hadrian. Even the gods lose themselves while reminiscing."

"I can tell. Though, I suppose I really shouldn't be correcting you, Lord Hades. After all, I am, essentially, an eternal guest in you domain."

"Well, I suppose I can take solace in the fact that you've managed to acquire a sense of tact during your little stay in the Underworld," Hades said, before sarcastically adding. "If only just a sense."

Apollo, seeing that his was going nowhere fast, cleared his throat to try to get his long dead friend's attention. Unfortunately, the boy seemed a bit more interested in coming up with his next retort to notice the anxious Sun god standing mere feet away from him. "Hadrian," He said, finally getting the young man's attention.

"Lord Apollo," Hadrian greeted in a confused voice, as if trying to recall something. "It's been a long time since I last saw you… in fact, it's been so long I can't even think of the exact number of years!"

"I'd take a shot in the dark and say about two hundred years," Hades quipped, not bothering to try and break the news easily.

"A shot in the what?"

"He's taking a guess," Apollo quickly explained. "Unfortunately, he is correct. You died nearly two hundred years ago."

"Well, that certainly killed off the good mood we had," The boy muttered just loud enough for the two deities to hear. "I suppose one stops keeping track of these things when he dies."

Apollo winced at the unintended barb. "Yes, well… let's get back on track. As Lord Hades has said, you've been dead for nearly two hundred years. The reason I've asked to meet with you today is to offer you the chance to be reborn as your status as a Hero of Olympus permits."

Hadrian stayed silent for a moment, wondering exactly how to word his response without offending Apollo. He sighed and decided to just come out and say it; mother always said that honesty was the best policy. "My mother offered me the same chance no more than a week after my death," Apollo's eyes widened in shock. He didn't know anything about that. "I refused, just as I will today –"

"Hadrian, please listen!" Apollo pleaded. "This isn't a case of me bringing you back from the dead in order to settle my debts with you!"

"If you would allow me to finish," Hadrian continued, slightly annoyed. "I was going to tell you _my_ reasons for refusing rebirth. Please humor me and tell me: have I not fought for Olympus in the past?"

"You have," Apollo answered wearily. He had a feeling he knew exactly where this was going, and he couldn't deny that the boy was right on every count he was about to bring up.

"Have I not put my own personal wellbeing at risk to defend both the magical world and the interests of the gods?"

"You have."

"Did I not _give_ my life," Hadrian ignored Apollo's wince and continued. The Sun god had to hear this. "To save a maiden at the request of your sister?"

This time, Apollo's voice was strained with grief as he answered. "Y-You did."

"I mean no offense and I do not wish to seem ungrateful to you, but have I not earned my eternal sleep? I lived my life happily, fought gallantly and died in order to save one less fortunate than myself, all as I wanted. With that being said, why would I want to marginalize all the good that I've done by asking for a do over, so to speak?"

Apollo looked to the ground as he tried to come up with an answer, anything to convince Hadrian that he wasn't asking him to revive simply because it was his privilege should he choose to do so. But how could he ask his friend to give up his ideology? Hadrian had always said that he wanted to enjoy life and do and learn as much as he could because he would only live once.

"Mother had the same reaction," Apollo's head snapped up in an instant. "I said the same thing to her, word for word, when she asked me. She was speechless. It might seem a bit cruel of me to do so, but I had to make her see that I didn't become a Hero of Olympus so I could reap the benefits." Here, Hadrian paused and shook his head. "Even though she accepted my reasoning, I think I did more harm than good in saying that. She rarely visits, and I'm not sure if it has more to do with the pain of me saying no to her when she tried to give me the gift of life once again than it does seeing my face after watching me die."

Apollo and Hades could only stare at the dead wizard as he thought aloud. Obviously, Apollo hadn't been present since only Hades knew that Hecate had visited her son two centuries ago, but not even he could've expected _that_ particular answer. As parents themselves, both deities could only imagine what she could've felt. Truthfully, both gods would admit to themselves (though never out loud) that they weren't the best of parents, but that didn't mean they loved each of their children any less. The mere though of losing one and then for that same child to choose to _stay dead_ rather than come back where they would at least be protected…

Neither even wanted to think about it.

"Please don't look at me like that," Hadrian deadpanned, startling both gods out of their momentary daze. "I probably hurt my mother more than I could even begin to imagine when I refused to come back, but I didn't make my decision to spurn her affections. I still love her very much."

"O-Of course," Apollo stammered, quite embarrassed at getting caught staring. "Hadrian, I'm not offering you the chance to come back because you _can_, I have my reasons."

Hadrian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was quite aware that the gods had a reason for _everything_ they did, whether that was just an excuse to do something or not was open to speculation. "And they are?"

"The first reason involves your mother and my sister." Hadrian raised an eyebrow as if expecting more. Apollo sighed, he had forgotten how damn perceptive the dead wizard could be when he paid attention. "As you may have guessed, both have been miserable since your death. Your mother confines herself to her temple for months at a time, usually surrounding your birthday and the anniversary of your death."

"I see," Hadrian said, nodding as he put the pieces together. "You feel that bringing me back will help pull my mother out of her misery, I can see the logic in that. Also, since it was partially my fault for putting her in such a state I should do something to help."

"Yes, but there's also my sister."

Hadrian was a bit confused. "Why would my death make Lady Artemis miserable? I annoyed her more than anyone she'd ever encountered before. She even said so herself."

"Come now, Hadrian," Apollo chided. "You and I both know that she'd never willingly say that she was fond of a boy." Hadrian chuckled at the truth behind that statement. "She saw you as a very close friend, and losing you broke her in ways you could never imagine, especially considering that she asked you to –"

"I really wish she wouldn't do that to herself," Hadrian interrupted, this time unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "I helped her Hunters for years before that incident, she shouldn't blame herself for me dying in her service."

"Would you be able to consciously tell yourself that if you inadvertently caused a friend's death? You forget that I was present after you passed, I had a front row seat to watching my baby sister fall apart and revert back to the man-hater she was before meeting you."

"I'm sorry, how would my death cause her to change her stance on men? During my life, she rarely showed any form of outward affection towards me."

"She views you as an exception to her views on men. She claimed that since you freely aided her, only once asking for anything in return, and never betrayed her trust, you were better than any man before or since."

"I might be making a bit of a leap in suggesting this," Hadrian said. "But I'm guessing she came to this conclusion in a warped sense of coping."

Apollo nodded. "That's a rather blunt way of putting it, but it's a possibility."

"Wonderful. So now you're telling me that the goddess of the Hunt holds me as the highest standard for a man and has taken it a step further by suggesting that there will never be another like me. I do sincerely hope that you're not telling me that she somehow went further and developed any _other_ feelings."

"No! None of that!" _Of course, you didn't ask if she had any feelings _before_ your death. Of that, I only have my own speculations as she never told me anything to suggest that._

"Well, thank Olympus for small mercies," Hadrian muttered. "I think that would be a reason _against_ my rebirth. If she only respected me in life, I shudder to think of what she might do to show her… _affections_ now."

"You've no idea how right you are," Apollo replied. "Though, if my sister does find out about that particular point of this conversation," Here, he shot a pointed look at Hades, who rolled his eyes in response. "I reserve the right to point her in your direction."

"…I once again feel that it would be more beneficial for me to stay dead."

"You might be right," Hades cackled, reinserting himself into the conversation. "Artemis' fury would be quite a sight if she heard that you even suggested such a thing."

"Lord Hades, I _do_ recall a certain incident that involved me saving your daughter when I was but thirteen-years-old. Perhaps you could _forget_ that little detail and we'll call it even?"

"I suddenly find myself having short-term memory problems, young Hadrian," Hades responded, not missing a beat. "I believe that I am now down to three favors owed to you."

"I really do wonder how you kept track of that number for all these years. But, I suppose we should get back to our original discussion," He said, turning back to Apollo. "Your other reasons?"

"Those are my reasons," Apollo replied, trying to look convincing.

"Apollo, I may not have seen you in nearly two centuries, but I can tell when you're lying. What are you hiding from me?"

Apollo sighed. _Oh, well. I suppose it's time to tell him the truth_. "My last reason is, admittedly, a bit more selfish."

"I hardly see how either of your previous reasons could even be considered –"

"Because my final reason is directly related to the previous two," Apollo continued. "I want you to have another chance at life because I feel responsible for your death!"

"Apollo, I've already said that I don't hold your sister responsible, so it wouldn't be fair of me to blame you."

"You might not, but I do! Who am I, Hadrian? I am Apollo, the god of Healing, and yet I couldn't save my friend from death!" Apollo snapped as his emotions finally broke through his carefully constructed barriers. "For two centuries, I've shouldered that burden while watching Hecate and Artemis fall apart, knowing that I should've been able to pull you back from the brink! I should've found away to halt whatever curse afflicted you and found away to stop it from consuming you, but I failed!" Apollo tried to hold back the tears that threatened to cascade down his face, but found he could not. The memory and meeting was taking its toll on the Sun god, a fact that both Hadrian and Hades could plainly see.

Hadrian stayed silent for a moment, trying to think of how to word his next statement. He didn't want to upset his weeping friend anymore than he already had. "At the time," He began. "There was no medical cure or countercurse that could have saved me without the cost of another life."

"But, Artemis told me that you healed Chantal! According to the Hunters who were present, she was perfectly fine after the ritual you performed!"

"I didn't heal her, I transferred the curse from her to myself. Like I said, in my lifetime there was no cure for that variation of the Withering Curse other than the one I used. Unfortunately, the transfer results in the curse killing the one who accepted the burden. Before you ask, no, it wouldn't work if you grabbed a common criminal and forced him to perform it," He said, cutting off Apollo's next question. "Ninety percent of magic is the intent behind each spell, I knowingly and _willingly_ resigned myself to death in order to save her."

Apollo still looked unsure whether or not he could believe what he was hearing. Hadrian wasn't known for being particularly manipulative, but he wasn't above keeping secrets from his friends if he knew the truth would hurt them; that much was evident in the events leading up to his death. Of course, Apollo still had to account for the fact that Hadrian knew more about magic than most adults when he was only twelve. Bah! Why did this have to be so confusing?

"Is that why you avoided visiting me, Apollo?" Hadrian asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Did you really think that I would hate you for something like that? Or was it, perhaps, that you didn't wish to see my face after watching me die?"

"Both," the Sun god admitted grudgingly. "I hated myself for being unable to help you, and felt you would blame me as well."

"If anyone's to blame for this, it's me," Hadrian said, shrugging his shoulders. "I should've told you when I started the ritual so you could be ready and would be more capable of helping your sister cope."

"That would've been nice. But why would you have to leave me with my weeping sister either way? Wouldn't it have been easier to tell us both up front?"

Hadrian actually laughed at that question. "With all due respect, your sister would've never let me go through with it had she known. She'd have called me a stupid boy, hit my over the head with her bow, and ordered me to find another way. And that's if she was in a good mood." Apollo couldn't repress a snort of laughter at that comment. Hadrian truly had _no_ idea how on the mark he was. "I suppose if this is all to help ease my mother's pain and allow my friends some form of closure on the matter, I can go along with your little scheme."

Apollo flashed his trademarked blinding smile. He could finally set things right! "Thank you, Hadrian! I –"

"On two conditions."

"Huh?"

"I'll come back to life and help bring my mother and Artemis back to their normal happy selves," Hadrian said with a small smirk. "On two conditions, nothing unreasonable, I assure you."

"Fair enough, I suppose," Apollo said with a sigh. "Fine, what are they?"

"The first is that neither of you are to tell Artemis that I'm back until either she figures it out for herself or I meet her in person.".

Hades couldn't resist getting a small jab in. "Trying to avoid getting beaten into the ground as long as possible?"

"You don't know how right you are," Hadrian grumbled, wincing slightly at the memory of one of Artemis' past blow-ups. He didn't want to be around when she found out that he was back and able to receive punishment for withholding information from her. He'd sooner fight Hydra with a wooden spoon than face her wrath. "You might want to let my mother know as soon as possible, though. Her visits might be rare but I don't think it would be a good idea to surprise her with this."

"Amazing," Apollo said, following his uncle's example of taking a shot at the boy. "It took being dead for two hundred years for you to settle down and be a good little boy for mummy. I think that, alone, would give her fits."

"Apollo, so help me, I'll –" Hadrian stopped abruptly as he took note of the smirk spreading across the Sun god's face. That blond bastard probably wanted him to start shouting threats so he could pull out some revenge prank for something that happened in the past. Hadrian took a deep breath to calm his infamously short temper; he could make Apollo pay for that one later, right now that wasn't so important. "Never mind. My second condition is that I am reborn as an infant, with no memories of my previous life or any knowledge of my magic."

Both Apollo and Hades gave him an incredulous stare; one couldn't exactly blame them for being surprised though. The one thing that Hadrian was more passionate about than fighting for one's rights was knowledge, something he'd acquired a vast amount of in a very short life. Both deities could recall countless times in which Hecate, when trying to remind herself of happier times with her son, boasted that he had learned enough magic to rival Merlin himself; of course, the fact that he once used a favor from Hades to obtain the Resurrection Stone in order to learn magic from the revered wizard meant that this was quite possible.

"Why would you deprive yourself of years worth of knowledge?" Hades asked after finally regaining his voice. "You had more magical power at your peak than nearly any other wizard or witch that ever passed into my realm!"

"Let's ignore that detail for a moment, Uncle," Apollo interjected before turning back to Hadrian. "Hadrian, isn't erasing your memory somewhat counterproductive to the objectives we spoke of? Don't you think it would be more helpful to my sister if you actually remembered who she is? Not to mention your mother!"

"I have my reasons for both being erased," Hadrian said, waving the Sun god off. "But, I suppose that I can share them with you. I do owe you that much. I want to have my memories erased, because I want to be reborn as an infant. Now, imagine for a moment what memories of my past battles might do to a young child's mind; the horrors that I witnessed in that day and age would traumatize me," Apollo nodded, that point made sense to a Healer. "However, I suppose you do have a point, so I'm willing to meet you halfway, so to speak."

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I mean that you do have a point about my memory helping the healing process with Artemis and my mother, but at the same time, I feel that too much knowledge at a young age would be harmful for my mind. In that regard, I'd like it if you put a block on my memories, one that would release them slowly over an extended period of time before finally being broken when I reach my fifteenth year."

Hades interjected, genuinely curious as to the nature of the dead wizard's plan. "Why fifteen? Why would you have your full memories of past battles return to you at such a tumultuous time for a young man?"

"Because I have a feeling that Apollo plans for me to meet my mother and Artemis early in my life," He said, giving Apollo a knowing look. "It might hurt them somewhat to know that I barely remember them, but I think that it will be more of a help for them to deal with me as a child again than trying to deal with me as an adult trapped in a child's body. At the same time, as my memories are released and I interact with the two of them, I'll hopefully be used to the idea that I am reborn into the world."

"I suppose that I can accept that," Apollo sighed. "If we don't give her a reason to try to make a good impression, Artemis would most likely beat you into the ground for dying, or capture you and drag you along with her Huntresses so that she could keep an eye on you if she knew that you were whole."

"Yes," Hadrian smiled ruefully. "And mother would take one look at me, cry with joy that her 'baby boy' had come back to her, and then lock me in an ivory tower. However, if I'm younger and ignorant, they'll be less likely to imprison me because they'll want me to remember them in a more positive light."

"That's a big risk," Hades commented. "There's still a chance that either Artemis or Hecate try to snatch you the moment that they find out you're alive and then rekindle your memory under their watchful eyes."

"I understand the risk, and accept it, Lord Hades. But I'd much more prefer them imprisoning me and trying to play nice in order to remind me of who I am, than being imprisoned and berated for my foolishness."

"HA! Two centuries dead and you're still trying to avoid being put in the corner by your mummy, eh boy?" Hades needled.

"I'm not nearly as worried about what mother will do to me as I am what Artemis would," Hadrian admitted, unable to repress a shudder that ran through his body. "Mother might send me to my room for a year or two, but Artemis would drag me along with the Huntresses and try to beat my impulsiveness out of me. Not to mention what the remaining Huntresses from that time will do in order to remind me that slighting their mistress in any way is unacceptable." Hadrian ignored the barks of laughter that came from the gods. "At least mother would lecture me a couple of times, before resuming our previous relationship. With Artemis, I might as well take a vacation to Tartarus! She's likely to use me for a target, or worse, put me through hunting training _again_!"

Apollo smirked at the look of fear that crossed Hadrian's face. He knew all too well of what his 'baby sister' put the boy through; back then, Artemis loved to tell the gods of what training she was putting Hecate's son through. Even Hecate had to laugh when Artemis once said "I'll beat the sarcasm and insolence out of him if it's the last thing I'll do!" To this day, Artemis still told her Huntresses, somewhat fondly, that he hadn't learned his lesson.

Knowing her, she'd love nothing more than to add in a few _special_ sessions with Hadrian to 'help' rid him of his impulsiveness and tendency of withholding information. Apollo had a very strong feeling that these sessions would involve quite a lot of begging for mercy from Hadrian, and even more torture and insults from Artemis. With that being said, he was definitely going to clear his calendar for that particular year; Hadrian's groveling made for excellent blackmail material, and Apollo knew exactly what he was going to use it for. _Someone's going to pay for that time he slipped me a sleeping drought and then shaved my head and eyebrows_.

"Very well," Apollo began. "I'll block out your memory for your own safety and for the purpose of giving them some semblance of a happier reunion with you. Now, why exactly do you want me to erase your memories of your magic?"

Hadrian grinned mischievously. "What's the fun of going through childhood if I can't learn magic? You know how much fun I had the first time around, and I don't want to deprive myself of the opportunity to relearn it all along with some new things."

"That presents a bit of a problem though," Apollo frowned. "Your magic is quite valuable to our interests and you made many enemies in your past exploits. You'll be at a great risk if you don't possess a similar grasp on magic as you did in the past."

"That's a very good point," Hadrian said, his smile wiped from his face. "You could put a similar block on my memory of magic, while leaving my magic itself unbound, but I don't think that's what you're looking for," He paused as Apollo nodded in confirmation. He didn't want to risk Hadrian having only brief flashes of his old magic until the block wore off. "Then, I suppose the best way of doing this would be to have me reborn into my own family. They should still have the magical texts that I learned from in the past and, with my knack for learning quickly, I should be able to duplicate my past results. Of course, that's if any of them are still alive and Peverell Manor hasn't been sold or destroyed."

"I believe there is still one last remaining line of your family," Hades spoke up. "If I recall, your family joined with the Potter family around the time of your death."

"Well, what do you know? My sister actually did marry that guy! Shame I missed the wedding while I was in the Colonies."

"Actually," Apollo said. "They married after you died."

"… Oh."

"If it makes you feel any better, they left a seat empty for you at the family table at the wedding. I also hear that your name is still revered amongst the Potters."

"I'm not all that concerned with being revered," Hadrian muttered. "I'm more upset that I wasn't there for my sister. Saving me a seat was a very nice gesture though."

"Yes," Apollo said mournfully. "She was quite fond of you, wasn't she?"

"I don't think 'fond' is the correct word to describe how she felt. At times, Marianne was nearly as overprotective as mother. Though, I suppose that's not exactly a bad thing," Hadrian mused.

"As much as I enjoy this trip down memory lane," Hades cut in. "Let's get back to the point; your family is still extant, so your unusual request is possible. And, yes," He said, before Hadrian could ask his question. "They still own Peverell Manor. Though, I believe that the new head of the family moved to Godric's Hollow recently."

"Interesting. How did you find out where they live now?"

"I learn many things when the souls of the dead pass into my realm," Hades grinned wickedly. "A man by the name of Charlus Potter told me that his son married a muggleborn and decided to live at the Potter family's summer home in Godric's Hollow. Something about his wife preferring to live closer to her old world."

Hadrian smiled. "That does sound like something that only a Potter man would do. Those stubborn bastards might be viscous when faced with enemies, but they'll go to nearly any lengths to please their wife."

"Then it's settled," Apollo said with a grin only he could pull off. "Your memories of both your life and magic will be partially blocked and you'll be reborn into your own family. Now –"

"Might I suggest one thing?" Hadrian cut in.

"What?"

"You might want to inform my mother, per my conditions, as soon as possible just in case. Her visits, though rare, tend to be sporadic and dependent on her mood."

Apollo sighed. "Good point, I'll take care of that after your rebirth is a success." He paused for a second, as a thought came to him. "Uncle, would it be possible for you to keep this whole thing quiet? The last thing we need is for all of Olympus to go knocking on the Potters' door."

"I can swear an oath on the River not to go running off to your father," Hades said slowly. "However, I won't lie if one of our family comes here and asks to see him."

"And you accuse me of being a coward in the face of Artemis' fury," Hadrian teased ignoring the glare he received in return.

"Actually," Apollo said. "That's a smart decision. If my sister came to visit and discovered that you weren't in Elysium, she'd demand to know why. If Uncle were to lie, she'd likely obsess over figuring it out and start a war."

Hadrian sighed. "That's a very good point. I suppose that we'll just have to settle for an oath then, Lord Hades," He said, returning to his previous business attitude. "As long as you swear not to notify anyone outside of this room or my mother of what has occurred today unless specifically asked, I think we should be able to avoid this incident being used by anyone as grounds to start a war."

"That's a simple, but very thorough oath," Hades praised. "It seems that you did learn something from me after all. Very well, I will swear it. I, Hades, Lord of the Underworld, swear on the River Styx that I shall not tell anyone that Hadrian Ignitus Peverell has revived from the dead unless I am specifically asked." A low rumble of thunder sounded, signifying that the oath had been accepted. The deal was made.

"Apollo," Hades continued in his official tone. "In my capacity as Lord of Death, I release custody of Hadrian Ignitus Peverell's soul to you, so that you may guide him to his new life. As for you, Hadrian, try to last longer than your eighteenth year, this time around."

"I plan on it," Hadrian answered before turning to his new minder. "I assume you'd like to leave now so we can get this done as soon as possible?"

"Right on the money," Apollo beamed, ignoring his friend's look of confusion. "Come with me, you'll love the upgrades I've installed on the Sun Chariot!"

"I have the oddest feeling that I should be absolutely terrified right now…"

"Oh, relax! You've flown with me before and handled it fine! It'll be just like old times! But, much more cool looking and faster moving."

**One Hour Later – Godric's Hollow, England**

The moment the Sun Chariot, now in the form of a red Ford Mustang, touched the ground, Hadrian threw open the door and threw himself onto the ground.

"Oh, solid, safe earth!" He cried. "I'll never leave you again!"

"Will you stop being such a baby," Apollo chided. "It wasn't that bad!"

"Apollo, has it occurred to you that I, being dead for two centuries, have never encountered such a contraption as that screaming, metal death trap you drive around in?"

"Well, when you put it like that, no but –"

"Then please," Hadrian continued. "Allow me a brief moment to reacquaint myself with solid ground before we crack on!"

Apollo rolled his eyes. "Fine, take a breather," He surveyed the neighborhood, trying to find the traditional Wizard style house among the newer ones in the surrounding area. "I don't see any kind of wizarding house that I remember, you sure we're in the right place."

"Oh, believe me, we're here," Hadrian said as he stood up and dusted himself off. "They've probably warded the place with a few Notice Me Not and Muggle Repelling Charms, perhaps even a Fidellious as well."

"What exactly does the Fidellious Charm do again?"

"The memory of a certain location is erased to all save for the owners and their selected Secret Keeper," Harian explained as he began to gather his magic around him. "The only way to gain entrance is for the Secret Keeper to tell you the location."

"Right," Apollo said. "So, do you know where the house is?"

"I don't."

"Excuse me?"

Hadrian sent his gathered magic out, looking for any traces of wards in the area. "I don't know the exact location due to the Fidellious being active, but I _can_ find the ward lines and go from there," He smirked slightly as he felt his magic respond to something off in the distance. "That way," He said, pointing to the East.

"As impressive as ever," Apollo praised. "It seems that even two centuries in the Underworld hasn't dulled your ability at all."

"Lord Hades was kind enough to allow me to pass some of my time practicing magic, that's one of the few favors he granted me in exchange for my past deeds."

"I understand. How far away is the house?"

"About a mile away," He answered. "Why?"

Apollo adopted an innocent expression. "I was just thinking that it would be faster if we –"

"No!"

"Oh, come on! I don't drive that bad!"

"Apollo," Hadrian said exasperated. "There is no force of nature or act of the gods that will _ever_ get me back in your Sun Chariot!"

"Spoilsport."

**Scene Change – Master Bedroom – Godric's Hollow, England**

James Potter was silent as he stared helplessly at the sleeping form of his pregnant wife. Three days ago, the loving couple had visited Poppy Pompfrey, the only Healer they could genuinely trust at the current time, for a routine health scan for their unborn children. It was supposed to be a happy time, he was supposed to feel nothing but joy as he listened to the sounds of their beating hearts.

But fate had other plans. One of the fetuses was too small for this point in time, it was likely that it wouldn't make it to term. Madam Pompfrey scanned multiple times, each time trying to assure the prospective parents (and herself) that she had miscast the charm, that the results they were seeing just couldn't possibly be right. But they all knew that there was no mistake the first time, the second, or the twenty-third. Lily and James were going to lose one of their children; they'd never even see the child open its eyes.

He was supposed to revel in the fact that he was going to be a father, damn it! None of this was supposed to happen! He wasn't supposed to watch his wife fall to pieces before his eyes, or feel the numb as he realized that he couldn't raise his wand to defeat some unseen attacker, or go to war with a dark enemy to save his child! James' hands clenched into tight fists as his temper mounted. Much like the symbol of the Potter House, he wanted to find whatever was causing his child harm and rip it to shreds, but how could he do that if his enemy was nature itself?

For the first time in his life, he felt helpless. All he could do was stay with Lily and try to keep her will from faltering.

When she was awake, James held his weeping wife in his arms in a vain attempt to comfort her and assure her that hope was not lost, that they'd find a way to save their child. As far as Lily knew, he had even stopped reporting in to fight in the war; he held her from the moment she woke to the time she fell asleep, stopping only briefly to pour over some obscure text from the Potter Library while she slept, before finding nothing and losing himself to sleep as well.

She had no idea that James hadn't slept since Pompfrey's diagnosis; he _wouldn't_ sleep until he found what he was looking for. As soon as he was sure that his wife was asleep, James would march to the Library and scour the shelves for any and all books related to healing of any sort.

To his further frustration, his search was not going well at all! How in Merlin's name had someone not come up with a way to save a fetus from death? There was no spell, no potion, there wasn't even a bloody dark ritual! What the fuck was the point of even _having_ magic if you couldn't use it to save your child!

But there was _one_ thing that kept popping up. In a few of the more obscure books he'd read from the family's private collection, a higher power was mentioned. The gods. The deities worshipped by the great civilizations of ancient times. James found that, in some instances, the gods' names were invoked in certain prayers, spells or rituals in an attempt to ask for their blessing or aid in dire times. The practice hadn't been used since the Peverell and Potter families had united, but it was worth a shot.

After quickly scanning the domains and natures of the old gods, James decided that it would be best to ask Apollo's favor first and foremost; after all, he was the god of Healing. James thought about Artemis for the briefest of moments before realizing that she was more likely to turn him into an animal to be hunted. Probably a fair point.

James knelt down beside the bed and clasped his hands. "Lord Apollo, god of the Sun and Archery, Lord of Prophecies and Healing, I come to thee, a humble mortal, to beg for your aid in my darkest hour. My unborn child's health is failing, he may not survive to even taste air. Please, hear my prayer and answer my call, I swear upon my life and magic that I will do whatever you ask to repay you in return for this favor!"

"Well, isn't this a shocking turn of events!" James whirled around with a start, and found two figures, a man and a boy, standing in his room. The blond man was dressed in a rather expensive suit and tie, while his raven haired companion was sporting a traditional wizard's wardrobe… and was glowing… why was the second man glowing?

The blond smiled and spoke. "Here we are, coming to ask you for a favor only to find that you apparently need my help! That makes this whole thing seem so much simpler in nature!"

James stared openmouthed for a moment. "Who… are you?"

"You called upon me but don't know who I am?" The man chided. "I suppose I can let it slide, you mortals haven't had much contact with us for the last couple centuries –"

"Apollo," The second man said in an exasperated tone. "Quit rambling and answer the man."

"Wait, _you're_ Apollo?"

"That's right!" The now identified Sun god grinned. "Phoebus Apollo, at your service! Though, I'd prefer it if you just called me Apollo, Phoebus sounds so _official_."

"Of course, Lord Apollo," James said respectfully, trying to make sense of what he was hearing while also garnering some manner of good favor with the apparent deity in his bedroom. "Er… If you don't mind me asking, who is he?" He gestured to the boy. "And why in Merlin's name is he glowing?"

"Forgive me," The boy answered. "My name is Hadrian Peverell, sir. And as to the reason why I'm glowing, I'm a spirit. A ghost, if you will."

James was stunned for a moment. This was too surreal for him. Apollo himself and Hadrian Peverell, the rumored son of Hecate, were standing before him. This couldn't be real! It just had to be a dream!

"I can assure you, this is no dream, James Potter," Apollo chided playfully. "I am the genuine god of the Sun and he is the Hadrian Peverell," Hadrian scowled at the added implication of status, something James didn't miss.

"But – But how did you get here?" James blurted.

"As Apollo said," Hadrian began. "We were on our way here when you began praying to him, so the call for his aid gave him the ability to claim that this was an area under his temporary domain and go through the wards," He paused as he noticed the confused expression on James' face and sighed. "He's the god of Healing, so by asking for his help, you allowed us to get in without me having to rip through the wards to gain audience with you. Does that make more sense?"

"Yes, thank you. Wait, what did you mean by 'coming to ask a favor'?"

Hadrian turned to Apollo. "Would you like me to explain?"

"I would appreciate that," Apollo answered. "That way I can start working on my patient. Rest assured," He said, cutting off James before he could interrupt. "That your magic and life will not be taken as a price. I only ask that you keep an open mind and listen to the favor that Hadrian will explain to you."

James nodded in agreement. It couldn't hurt to listen, especially if they were going to save his child.

"Could we move to a more suitable room?" Hadrian asked. "I think it would be best if we left Apollo to his work."

"Yes, ah, my study is just down the hall," James offered.

"That will do just fine. Apollo," The Sun god turned. "Try not to flirt with your patient." Hadrian strode from the room, ignoring the heated (pun intended) glare that was sent his way.

James lead the young… dead boy to his study, but was unable to resist glancing back in the direction of the master bedroom every now and then.

"Relax," James jumped, he'd lost himself for a moment. "Apollo might be a shameless flirt," He pointedly ignored the crash of thunder in the distance. "But he is quite serious in his capacity as the god of Healing. In fact, of all the Olympians, there is only one who cares more for children than he."

"Artemis," James responded. "Would it be better if I prayed to her?" He jumped at the sound of thunder overhead. That was twice after a slight at an Olympian. That couldn't be coincidence… could it?

Hadrian just looked amused. "Well, technically, this falls in a bit of a grey area between their domains. Artemis' capacity as the goddess of Childbirth is more of the midwife capacity, but she can still aid in circumstances as this. Apollo's capacity as the god of Healing covers this as well since his domain is a bit broader. In short, both have the ability and would have answered your prayer," He smirked a bit. "Though, Artemis would be more likely to threaten you with various forms of torture if you even mistreated a child that you begged her to heal. I am jesting," He said, holding up a hand to stop James' indignant outburst. "Apollo wouldn't have answered your call if you weren't sincere."

"So, her reputation for hating men wouldn't have come into play in this instance?"

"Oh, no," Hadrian grinned. "She'd still tell you that you're lower than dirt, in her eyes, while she healed your child. However, she wouldn't harm a man for asking her to save his child, no matter how much she hates our gender. Though, in all fairness, I'm glad you didn't call upon her. That would have made this whole situation very complicated."

"How so?" James asked. "Does this have anything to do with the favor that Lord Apollo mentioned?"

"Yes," Hadrian answered. "In fact, it has everything to do with our proposal. I hope you don't mind, but I'd prefer to give you a summarized version of this ordeal. Otherwise, we'll be here all week."

"That sounds fine to me."

"Wonderful. Well, as I said before, I am quite dead. I died two hundred years ago while helping Artemis save a young maiden's life. You might notice, that Apollo allows me to get away with teasing him?" Hadrian asked, waiting for James to nod before continuing again. "That is because I was friends with Artemis and him. During my life, I gained what is called 'Hero of Olympus' status for my deeds in service of the Olympian gods, this is important because the gods can extend the offer of rebirth or reincarnation to a Hero after he dies. Two hundred years ago, I rejected the initial offer, which was made by my mother. Recently, Apollo brought to my attention that my death and refusal to come back only served to hurt mother and caused Artemis to revert to hating men once again."

"So," James said slowly. "Your death really hit them hard, I assume?"

"Apparently so. For that reason, Apollo convinced me to be reborn into this world."

"And what does any of that have to do with the favor you're asking me?"

"Wait a moment and you'll find out," Hadrian chided. "I agreed to be reborn on two conditions: that I be reborn as an infant and that my memories of my life and magic be blocked until I am fifteen years old. However, Apollo did convince me that it would be best to slowly allow my memories to return to me as I age up to my designated year." James looked incredulous, as if he couldn't grasp the reasoning behind his terms. "If you have a question, now would be the time to ask."

"Blocking your memories and being reborn as an infant doesn't make sense!" James cried. "You're _the_ Hadrian Potter! You fought against blood supremacists when you were eleven years old! You're the only wizard in Britain's history to skip attending Hogwarts since its founding! Why in Merlin's name would you want to start over?"

Hadrian groaned in annoyance. "Would you _please_ stop hero worshipping! If I wanted the glory and honor of being the returning white knight, I wouldn't bother returning as an infant! I didn't fight for personal gain, I fought for what I believed in! And returning to reap the benefits of past battles would undermine everything that my family and I stood for!"

James looked down, unsure how to respond to his ancestor's rant. He remembered his mother telling him bedtime tales of the boy who defied a government, the brave and noble Hadrian Peverell. From the tale of his first duel with Cadmus Malfoy, to his monologue before the Wizengamot, James had heard it all. He didn't mean to balk at the thought of his childhood hero casting aside his well-earned glory, but he had lost himself in his idolization of the boy. He probably looked like a fool.

"I'm only human," James' head snapped back up as looked questioningly at Hadrian, as if silently urging him to elaborate. "I'm not perfect, James. I made many, many mistakes during my time fighting. I started a blood feud with the Malfoy House, I was all but vilified in Pureblood society, my mother even sent me to the Colonies when I was thirteen to keep me from stirring up more trouble, but I ended up helping the Revolutionaries fight off the British wizards instead. During that Wizengamot session, I essentially claimed the muggle world as my domain and swore to defend it against anyone who dared abuse them. I went about this with no subtlety. I didn't think of the consequences of my actions, I saw something in front of me as wrong and decided to take it upon myself to correct it, even if my society loathed me for doing so. My family backed me in public, but begged me to avoid going to war with another House without consent. I was a fool, James. No matter how much I was lauded for being a prodigy in magic, I was a bloody fool."

"Why are you telling me this?" James asked. "Why tell me after our family has honored you as everything a Potter or Peverell should be?"

"Because you need to know," Hadrian said with a look of utmost seriousness. "That no hero is perfect and no warrior is clean. My hands were stained from the moment I first spilt my enemies' blood. Though I don't regret protecting the innocent, I do wish that I hadn't done it at the expense of hurting those who cared for me. I'm not going to return to this world to fight carelessly as I did years ago, I'm returning to ease the pain of my friends and mother, and to ask that they forgive me for my errors."

"I understand," James responded. "But you still haven't explained what this has to do with me. Why are you here?"

Hadrian looked into James' eyes, as if judging whether or not he'd actually heard the message. After a moment, he answered. "Because, I want to be reborn into your family, James. You're all that's left of my blood, my sister's line. I want you to raise me."

**Scene Change – Master Bedroom - Godric's Hollow, England – 10 Minutes Later**

"Ah, so have you made your decision?" Apollo asked as James and Hadrian reentered the room.

"How are they?" James asked, ignoring Apollo's question for the moment. This matter was more pressing, in his mind.

"Your wife and sons are healthy, James," Apollo said with a smile. "I was able to bring the endangered fetus up to speed as far as growth and development. There shouldn't be any lingering effects as far as I can tell, but don't hesitate to give me a call if anything comes up."

"Thank you, Lord Apollo," James replied, kneeling before the Sun god. "You've no idea how much this means to me!"

"Think nothing of it, I'm happy to help! Now, have you reached your decision about our proposal?"

James looked to Hadrian, who merely nodded. "I have, Lord Apollo. Before I tell you, I have to ask how Hadrian will be reborn into my family."

"Smart man," Apollo praised. "Never leap without looking, something that a certain someone in the room never learned," He grinned at Hadrian's muttered Greek swearing. "The plan is quite simple: I'll merge Hadrian's soul with that of the fetus I healed, their cores and memories will merge, but Hadrian's memories will be put on a filtered blocking system, so that they are slowly returned to him over time."

"I mean no offense, but are you sure that merging their cores will work?"

"I explained the initial mechanics of it to him on the way," Hadrian interjected. "After Apollo puts my soul in contact with your son's, it will be up to me to merge our magic successfully. Apollo will be handling my memories."

"I see," James said, still unsure. "Have you done this before?"

"To myself? No, but I did once rip the magic out of a Wizengamot member and merge it with a muggleborn boy to save his life." At James's shocked look, he explained. "The bastard put a magic leeching curse on him in an attempt to steal his magic! If I hadn't done it, the boy would've died due to his core being depleted beyond recovery."

"That's… a bit frightening."

"I'm the son of Hecate, did you really think she wouldn't teach me a few tricks mortals hadn't learned?"

"Ah, guys," Apollo said, bringing attention back to him. "Could we wrap this up and get a move on? I still have a couple of errands to run after this."

"Fine," Hadrian said, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Excellent! Oh, James," He said. "You're going to have to look away. I have to revert to my true form to do this."

"Why would I have to look away?" James asked.

"Because seeing a god in their true form would cause you to turn into a pillar of salt," Hadrian answered in a monotone, as if he'd been forced to explain this a hundred times before.

"O-Oh," James stuttered before turning around and covering his eyes. "Is this alright?"

"Perfect," He heard Apollo answer cheerfully. "Now, this will just take a second! It'll be over before you know it!"

James wanted to turn around to witness this feat firsthand, but the sound of rushing wind and a sudden spike in temperature caused him to heed Hadrian's warning. It only lasted an instant, but James didn't dare turn to face the god until _after_ he was told it was safe.

"It's done," Apollo breathed. "The merge is complete. You can turn around now, James." He said, walking over to the awestruck Potter Lord. "Your son is healthy and your ancestor has successfully merged with him. Congratulations, Mr. Potter, you're going to have twin boys."

"Thank you!" James cried as he grabbed Apollo in a brotherly embrace usually reserved for his fellow Marauders. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! How can I ever repay you, Lord Apollo?"

"Heh, you can do three things for me," Apollo said, untangling himself from the giddy man before him. "First, raise your sons well and treat them equally."

"Of course," James replied. "I'll do as best for them as I can."

"Excellent," Apollo said clapping his hands together. "For my third request, you cannot tell anyone, save your wife, what happened here this evening. If anyone asks, say that you found an obscure spell in the Potter Library and that you can't reveal it as it is a family secret."

"I swear I won't," James replied quickly. "I, James Charlus Potter, swear on my magic that I will tell no one but Lily Potter of this evening's events and that I will adhere to the story Apollo has outlined for me. So mote it be." James' magical aura flared around him, signifying that his oath had been accepted.

"A simple yes would've sufficed, but I do appreciate the oath. For my third, and final, request… stop calling me 'Lord Apollo'! Apollo will do just fine."

James blinked in surprise. "I suppose I can do that Lo- I mean, Apollo," He corrected at the sight of Apollo's exasperated look.

"Thank you. Now, I have one more errand to run before I return to my usual duties, but before I leave, I have something for you," Apollo paused to reach into his pocket and pull out a bag. He tossed it to James.

James caught it out of the air, as if it were second nature to him. As he closed his fingers around it, he heard the familiar rattle of coins bumping together. "Er…"

"Those are golden dracma," Apollo said, already knowing what his question was. "You can use those to contact me in case of an emergency. Just flick some water into the air and toss one in as an offering to Iris, and ask her to let you speak with me. I'll let her know to accept your call."

"Er… Thank you," James answered, still not completely understanding what he was just told. "I'll be sure to do that."

"Great! Now, I'm going to head out, so you might want to avert your eyes again." As soon as Apollo finished speaking, he began glowing with a golden light, James turned away and threw his hands up to cover his eyes, not wanting to test whether turning into a pillar of salt was fact or fiction. When he opened his eyes, Apollo was nowhere to be found.

**Scene Change – Hecate's Temple – Mount Olympus**

Apollo pushed open the front door of Hecate's Temple, unopposed by any wards. _She either knows it's me, or she found something that reminds her of Hadrian. Probably both._ He didn't have to search very long; she was sitting in her room, crying as she looked at a painting of a smiling, ten-year-old Hadrian.

"Hecate," He said softly, officially alerting her to his presence so she didn't blast him. "It's Apollo."

Hecate turned, and quickly tried to wipe away her tears. "Oh, he- (hic)- hello, Apollo," She greeted in a chocked voice. "What (hic) brings you here?"

Apollo sighed and decided not to stall for time, he owed her that much. He kneeled down before her and looked her in the eye. "Hadrian is back, Hecate. He was reborn this evening."

Hecate gaped in shock before coming to her senses and grabbing Apollo's hands. "Truly?" She asked, as any signs of misery or weariness vanished from her face. "Has my son truly returned?"

"Yes," He answered. "I swear it on the River Styx."

As thunder sounded in the distance to show that the oath had been accepted, Hecate threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. "Where is he?" She asked excitedly, pulling back and looking behind Apollo as if her baby were going to jump out and surprise her. "Where is my son?"

"Slow down," Apollo said. "He's not here."

"But you said –"

"He wished to be reborn as a child, Hecate. He wanted to have a fresh start on life."

Unfortunately for Apollo, this only served to bring tears to Hecate's eyes. "W-What do you mean? He doesn't want to see me?"

"No! Nothing of the sort," Apollo stammered. "He wanted to be reborn as a child so he could have the chance to right some wrongs. Though, he did ask me to put a block on his memories," Seeing Hecate ready to break into hysterics, he raced to calm her down. "But they'll come back as he grows up! I even made it so his memories of you will be the first to come back with his grasp of basic magic! I even put him with a family you know and trust!"

Hecate held her tears back as she thought of Apollo's explanation. It was better than nothing, if Hadrian remembered her being his mother, or even had just some recollection of her, she should be happy that she even had that to help her reconnect with her son. In a way, this was so completely normal for her son. It really shouldn't surprise her anymore, but she'd missed him so much these last two hundred years, that she didn't think of how frustratingly headstrong her darling, little boy could be.

Wait… what family? He'd better not be with that damn Malfoy family!

"What family did you put him with?" She asked. "My son had better be safe or you and he will be punished!"

Apollo winced. Getting punished by the goddess of Magic was _not_ on his to-do list. "He's with the last branch of the Potter family! He said he wanted to be reborn into a family of his own bloodline!"

Hecate nodded. "That is acceptable. The Potters have always valued magic itself over one's origins. Thank you, Apollo. I owe you a great favor for this."

"Think nothing of it. I'm just happy to have helped an old friend."

**Chapter End**

**Well, it took me forever and a half to get this done, but here it is. I hope it's to your liking. Please review and let me know how it turned out! If you have some criticism, please make it constructive so I can improve.**

**As far as the gap in Hadrian's discussion with James, you'll find out what was said soon. I promise.**

**Thanks!**


	2. A Mother's Love

**Disclaimer: I do not own the **_**Harry Potter**_** or **_**Percy Jackson and the Olympians**_** series respectively, nor do I claim ownership to any of their characters. I also do not claim ownership to any references of **_**Negima!**_**, **_**Merlin, **_**or any other franchises that may be referenced for purposes of magic.**

**Hello again, readers! It seems that the first chapter of "The Son of Hecate" was received rather well, so I guess the idea is somewhat interesting. For those of you who noted that there aren't any HP/PJO crossovers with Harry as the son of Hecate, that was actually the inspiration behind the fic. Much like my other story, I made this one because I couldn't find any fics that featured him in this role and felt that I could have fun with the idea.**

**Chapter 2: A Mother's Love**

**October 31, 1981 – Godric's Hollow, England**

Lord Voldemort, widely considered to be the most feared Dark Lord since Grindewald's reign of terror, strode confidently down the pavement. Tonight would be his most glorious accomplishment, the beginning of the end for those who dared oppose him. Tonight, the greatest threat to his domination of the world would lay dead at his feet.

Voldemort sneered at the muggle neighborhood adjacent to Potter Manor. To think that a once proud pureblood line would sully themselves by willingly _breathing_ the same air as those pathetic mudbloods disgusted him. _Killing off the last of a long line of blood traitors would be a favor to the magical world as a whole_, he thought as he approached the kissing gates on the outskirts of the property. The end of the Potter family would effectively kill two birds with one stone: the end of Gryffindor's heirs and the final eradication of the last branch of the Peverell family, the original protectors of the muggle realm.

Lucius Malfoy had been on a high for nearly a month after killing Charlus and Dorea Potter, and was quite disappointed that he wasn't allowed to come along to at least witness this moment. Voldemort knew all too well that his old friend and servant had always been one to buy in to his family history, and normally would've humored him. But this was much more important than a two hundred year blood feud.

This night would see the end of either the Potter children or Lord Voldemort himself, and the Dark Lord wasn't going to leave anything to chance. He demanded nothing less than perfection from his servants, but this was one mission that he fully knew must be accomplished by his own hand.

On one hand, this mission was personal for the Dark Lord. It would serve as fitting revenge toward that blood traitor, James Potter, and his mudblood whore of a wife for daring to defy him three times! Voldemort would admit, though never aloud, that the Potters were both very powerful, but their slights against him would not go unpunished. His actions tonight would reaffirm to the entire world that no man, woman, or child escaped his reach. No one escaped his cleansing of the magical world.

However, that wasn't the sole reason for his being here. Personal vengeance against his enemies was taking the proverbial back seat to something much bigger. He was here tonight because one of his trusted servants had brought him a bit of very disturbing news.

A prophecy. Specifically, a prophecy that spoke of his defeat at the hands of a child. Normally, he would scoff at such drivel. As if a mere child could best Lord Voldemort, the man who could stand on even footing with his hated enemy, Albus Dumbledore. However, prophecies were one of a _very_ short list of magical skills that Voldemort had no talent and very minimal knowledge of.

At first, he considered ignoring the matter completely, but as he thought more on the matter, he grew worried. Prophecies were one of magic's grey areas; they could be referring to something that would happen within a couple of hours, or centuries after the time they were written. While Voldemort was quite confident in his ability as a wizard, he didn't want to leave even the _slightest_ chance for this prophecy to come true. So, he decided to personally murder the Potter brats before either of them could become a threat to him.

There was, of course, the slight problem of the Potter family home being under the Fidellius Charm, so he couldn't just abduct anyone who knew the family and torture them into revealing their location. No, he was going to have to find their designated Secret Keeper, which he thought to be that damnable Sirius Black. But, fortune smiled on the Dark Lord when a member of his Death Eaters stepped forward to reveal that it was not the only Black to defy him.

James Potter had attempted to pull a double bluff; He and Sirius had conspired to trick the entire magical world into thinking that Sirius was the Secret Keeper, to protect the actual person. Even Voldemort admitted that the man's intentions were cunning, almost worthy of praise from Salazar Slytherin himself. However, James had no idea that his brilliant plan was going to be ruined by the very man he trusted with his family's lives. The Dark Lord's informant had given him a golden opportunity to dismantle the prophecy.

The informant had revealed that the Order of the Phoenix, lead by Dumbledore, were having a strategy meeting at their secret headquarters and the Potters were required to be in attendance. For that reason, they had asked him to babysit the twins; of course, as their friend he assured them that it would be no trouble at all.

Voldemort smirked as the door opened before he even reached the front porch, his servant would be greatly rewarded for what he had done.

The man before him had was short and had a rat-like face. His eyes were constantly shifting from side to side, as if looking for an escape route if his master's ire was raised. While the other three Marauders had been known for their dashing looks, bravery and intelligence, Peter Pettigrew was certainly lacking in two of those departments.

"My Lord," He stammered, kneeling before his true master.

"Rise, Peter," Voldemort spoke. "You have done well, my servant. Are the children here?"

"Y-Yes, my Lord," Peter responded hurriedly. "Both of them are in their room, just as you asked."

Voldemort's cold smirk widened into a wicked grin, which drew a flinch of fear from the cowering man before him. "Excellent. It will indeed be fitting for that blood traitor and his mudblood pet to find their children's bodies in their own room. Now, if you'll excuse me, Peter, I must now go and introduce myself to my would be slayers," He said, mockingly. "It's time they meet the future master of the world."

"Yes, my Lord. Shall I lead you to them?"

"That's unnecessary," Voldemort waved him off. "My victory tonight might be brief, but it shall be one filled with glory worthy of Lord Voldemort!" As he finished, he made his way to the staircase and began climbing to the second floor. After a few steps, he stopped and turned to Peter as if remembering something. "Oh, Peter, I nearly forgot to tell you something."

Peter's breath hitched in his throat. Could his Lord actually be about to thank him? "Y-Y-Yes, my Lord?"

"Had you not aided me in my victory tonight, you would suffer the consequences for even insinuating that I need help finding a pair of brats in their home. You would do well to remember that." With that he continued up the stairs, resisting the urge to cackle madly as his servant's pathetic whimpering reached his ears. Sometimes, it was the little things in life that really mattered most.

As he reached the top of the stairs, Voldemort let his eyes wander around in search of anything that might give hint to a child's room, something that muggleborn parents had been known for doing. Of the two doors to the right of him, there was nothing to indicate such, much to his annoyance. He wasn't trying to be act like a spoiled child, but he wanted to get this over with so he could move on with his conquest of Britain without fear of some prophecy! He took a calming breath and looked to his left… and stared.

There was a pair of nametags on the door. And Pettigrew had asked him if he wanted to be lead to their room. Voldemort closed his eyes and counted to ten, in an attempt to calm himself long enough to first accomplish his mission _before_ going downstairs and hanging that buffoon by his own intestines! The damn tags clearly showed the names _Harry_ and _Danny_ for Salazar's sake! Did that moron downstairs think he couldn't read?

Voldemort marched toward the door, muttering how he would make that fat rat scream after he had killed the brats. Oh, he was going to enjoy this! Three nuisances, one night. What more could an all-powerful Dark Lord ask for?

He opened the door and strode into the boys' room, as if he were entering his own house, and couldn't help but survey it. It looked… so _muggle_! This had Lily Potter's influence written all over it, Voldemort could only blanch at the thought of this being the room for the heir of a Noble House, let alone any Pureblood home! He resisted the urge to walk out of the room and demand that Peter move them to a more suitable room; he wanted his easy victory, but he was very heavy into the legacy and glory of Pureblood conquest! He would slay his so-called defeaters before they were even able to walk, but their deaths should at least be fitting for the prophesized enemies of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin!

Voldemort paused and considered his last thought. Perhaps he was getting a bit ahead of himself, he wasn't normally this _poetic_ when considering how his enemies should die. He shrugged it off and decided to think more on it later, he could always chalk it up to overexcitement. He turned his gaze to the two boys playing on the floor.

They were both small, even for being a year old, and had jet-black hair like their father. In fact, Voldemort would venture to say that they both looked exactly like James would have as a child. Upon further inspection of his enemies, Voldemort was forced to amend that statement. One of them was nearly a carbon copy of James Potter, right down to his chocolate brown eyes. The other boy had emerald green eyes, the same color as his mudblood mother. Voldemort hadn't asked Peter which boy was Harry and which was Danny, it hadn't mattered to him. All he knew was that he was going to kill both of them to make sure that damn prophecy didn't come to fruition.

Harry and Danny stopped playing with their blocks and were looking curiously at the strange man that had walked into their room. He was much to big and too scary looking to be their daddy, and he certainly wasn't mummy. Then again, Uncle Wormtail, as daddy called him, was watching them tonight, so maybe this was one of his friends! Harry reached for a red triangle block and held it out to the man. "P'ay?"

Voldemort watched with a small measure of amusement as the green-eyed child offered him one of the blocks. "No, I'm afraid that I'm not here to play blocks," He chuckled. "I have a different game in mind, one of my favorites. I call it 'Killing Curse Tag'. Why don't I start off? _Avada Kedavra!_"

**Scene Change – Hecate's Temple – Mount Olympus**

A sudden jolt in her magic caused Hecate to stop in the middle of brewing her potions. One of her wards had picked up an intruder with malicious intent approaching Hadrian. Something had gone terribly wrong at Godric's Hollow.

With a wave of her hand, the potion was put under a stasis spell as she walked over to her crystal ball, intending to find what foolish mortal dared endanger her baby boy. She placed both hands over the mystic orb and spoke, "Δείξε μου Αδριανού Πότερ." ("Show me Hadrian Potter.")

The dark orb clouded over for a brief moment before clearing up and revealing the Potter children in their bedroom, playing with their blocks. Hecate was confused for a moment; nothing seemed out of place. In fact, everything seemed perfectly normal. Perhaps she needed to visit and check the wards for one of her rare mistakes, and then check up on her son. If anything, she was almost happy that this ward problem occurred just so she could have a legitimate excuse to check up on him.

All thoughts of using a loophole to visit Hadrian vanished as the door to the boys' room opened to reveal Lord Voldemort, that murderous Dark Lord. Hecate snarled as the man had the sheer audacity to even look at his son, let alone speak to him! That bastard was already treading on thin ice with her, now he had just fallen right through and into the cold water known as her kill list. If that _thing_ so much as raised a hand toward her child, she would personally see to it that he suffered an eternity in the pits of Tartarus!

But Voldemort did more than merely raise a hand in threat; he raised his wand and aimed it directly at young Hadrian's innocent face. Hecate felt the ichor in her veins turn to ice as she watched the Dark Lord's lips form the words to invoke the Killing Curse, her worst nightmare was being replayed before her very eyes.

"NO!" She shrieked as the tip of Voldemort's wand glowed a murderous green. Apollo had just given her child back, she would _not_ lose him to that misbegotten whoreson! But there wasn't enough time for her to flash to Godric's Hollow and personally protect her child, though she would love to do so. She had no choice but to tap into Hadrian's magic and use it to fend off Voldemort's attack. It was difficult to do, but not impossible. After all, she is the goddess of magic.

Hecate reached out with her magic and sent it through to her son. The instant she felt her aura connect with his, she used his old activation key. "Mater, commoda me fortitudo (Latin: Mother, lend me your strength)," she said with urgency. Right as the Killing Curse was about to touch his head, Hadrian's magic awakened and rose to protect its master.

**Scene Change – Godric's Hollow, England**

Voldemort cackled madly as the Killing Curse neared the green-eyed child's head. This was it! This was the end of that damned prophecy and the beginning of the end for Dumbledore and his pathetic Light side!

His elation vanished as a white magical aura erupted from within the child just as the Curse touched his forehead. The boy cried out in pain as the sickly green curse carved an ugly, lightning bold shaped gash into his forehead; his magic reacted violently, almost as if it were a guardian angel or parent defending its precious child. The Killing Curse was stopped and hurled back at its caster at blinding speed, Voldemort didn't even have the chance to blink.

Voldemort howled as an undescribable pain raced through his body. It felt as if he were being ripped apart cell by cell. No, it was even worse than that! His own curse was ripping his very soul out of his body! Was this death? Was this the one thing he feared?

A stupid question. Of course this was what the Killing Curse felt like, the damn spell was designed to kill and forcibly rip the victim's soul from its body. But Voldemort wasn't ready to die, he always had a contingency plan! He hadn't planned on falling here, but he did have something that would help him escape death's grasp.

His Horcruxes. Voldemort's body was going to die, but his Horcruxes would keep his soul anchored to this plane as long as at least one of them remained. He was truly immortal until they were all gone. He had six, currently, but was always superstitious and very focused on magic, even when it came to numbers. And seven was one of the most powerful magical numbers. But he didn't have time to cast the spell properly! His body was to racked with pain to respond to his will! There would be no escaping this time. _Damn that brat!_ Voldemort thought. _This isn't over! Thanks to my Horcruxes, I am immortal! I will never be defeated! I will never die!_

Voldemort's fury and intent to survive awaked his own unconcious magic. Its master was focused on preserving himself through another soul anchor, while there wasn't a powerful enough magical item in the room for a Horcrux to take root, there was a target for a successful Horcrux: the green-eyed child. Voldemort's magic reached out and attacked the young child, intent on saving its master from the cold grip of death.

Hadrian's magic, weakened from being completely inactive for over a year and suddenly being called upon to stop the Killing Curse, was unable to protect him from this spell. Hadrian shrieked in pain as the tainted magic entered his body unopposed and took root in the cut on his forehead. The Horcrux was a success. Hadrian's screams stopped as he fell face first to the ground unconcious.

Voldemort's magic went out of control after his spell was cast. He felt a shiver of fear as he realized that he needed to escape somehow, or his soul would be caught in the explosion and the ties with his Horcruxes would be severed. There would be no coming back if his soul didn't escape. Voldemort quickly separated his soul from his body, becoming a ghastly shade, and retreated from Godric's Hollow, shouting curses as he fled.

Voldemort's magic exploded outwards, turning his body to ash and rocking the foundations of the house. The explosion of pure magic sent objects flying around the room and reduced the wooden blocks to splinters.

Danny shrieked in fear as the house shook around him and then cried out in pain as his left cheek was sliced open by flying splinters. He whimpered as he felt a warm, sticky substance roll down the side of his face. He wanted his mummy and daddy! They could make the pain go away! He opened his mouth and cried out, trying to call one of them to him, to make the pain stop and stop the world from shaking.

But no one came. Danny sniffled and looked to the door. Nothing. He was alone except for his brother. He turned to Harry, hoping that his brother could do something, anything to help him. His fears only worsened as he saw his brother lying face down on the floor. Danny crawled over and shook him, this wasn't time to sleep! They needed help!

Harry didn't move. Danny whimpered and shook him harder, Harry had to wake up! Why was he sleeping when everything was shaking and making such scary noises? Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks as he began to cry once more, he felt so alone, so afraid!

As Daniel cried, he didn't notice that the house had stopped moving. Everything had literally stopped where it was, as if being held in place by some unseen force. Then, the house glowed with a strange aura and began to repair itself. Something was putting the house back into place.

Hecate flashed into the boys' room and was greeted by the sight of distruction and a wailing child. With a wave of her hand, her magic began to fix the room, just as it was doing with the entire house. She winced as Daniel's cries grew louder, she wanted nothing more than to comfort her son's brother (would that make him her step-son?) but she needed to check on Hadrian first. She had to make sure he wasn't lost to her again.

Hecate kneeled down beside the unconcious child and muttered a diagnostic spell. The brief second she waited for the result felt like an eternity to her, she almost feared she was too late. But then, she felt a tiny heartbeat. She gave a sigh of relief and subtly sent a small thanks to Hades for not taking her son from her again. Hecate picked the sleeping child up and held him in her arms, just as she did two hundred years ago. For the first time in centuries, she felt complete again.

She was brought out of her relief by the sound of sniffling. Hecate turned and noticed that the crying child was looking at her curiously.

Daniel had never seen this woman before. She had pretty green eyes like mummy, and long black hair. She didn't look nearly as scary as the last visitor, in fact, she had a look on her face almost just like mummy when she was happy to see Harry and he. She was even holding Harry just like mummy did! Daniel looked up at her with his wide, chocolate brown eyes and held his arms out expectantly. If she made the noises stop and was being nice to Harry, she just had to be a nice person.

Hecate couldn't help but smile when Daniel reached out to her with both arms. She didn't need to read his mind to know that he wanted to be held and comforted just like his brother. Hecate gave a comforting smile and drew him into her embrace, she couldn't just leave Hadrian's brother to his fear.

"Hush, Daniel," She said soothingly as she wrapped both boys in a warm embrace. "Auntie Hecate is hear for you and she won't let that bad man hurt you or your brother anymore." As she spoke, she noticed twin trails of blood rolling down his cheek. She subtly shifted so she could survey his injury and noticed a V shaped gash running from the corner of his mouth to either side of his left ear. She bit back a curse at the sight; Daniel might not be her son, but she still felt protective of him due to his connection with Hadrian.

Hecate muttered a minor healing spell under her breath and kissed the sniffling boy on the cheek. She drew back and watched as the blood stopped pouring out and his skin began knitting itself back together. She noticed that the gash had been too deep for her spell to heal completely, as a white scar was left on his innocent face. Her eyes narrowed in frustration, she would have loved to use a higher level spell, but the magical residue left due to that bastard exploding and her magic repairing the house could've infected the scar with dark magic.

However, no infection would be nearly as dark as that disgusting thing that was latched onto her son's forehead. Hecate turned to her sleeping child and repeated the process, healing the cut on his forehead in seconds. As with Daniel, her magic was unable to prevent a scar from forming on his skin, but she wasn't as concerned with that at the moment. Right now, she was more focused on getting that Horcrux out of his scar.

The pain would be excruciating, but he wouldn't feel anything while unconcious. Therefore, it was best she remove it now rather than let it fester for years and get an even deeper hold on Hadrian's magic. Hecate leaned forward and planted another kiss on her son's forhead, simultaneously focusing her magic on ripping out the Horcrux. As she pulled away, an ink black, snakelike ghost came with her, wriggling its body in an attempt to escape from its captor. Hecate's eyes glowed green and the Horcrux was instantly destroyed. Voldemort's taint had been removed.

Suddenly, Hecate sensed multiple apparations just outside the property. For a moment, she feared that these were Voldemort's Death Eaters coming to avenge their fallen master, but that made no sense. Only she knew that the Dark Lord had fallen. Her fear turned into relief as she heard James and Lily Potter's panicked shouts as they rushed into the house. She smiled and put the boys down on the floor, it was time for her to leave.

The moment she let go and stood to leave, Daniel tugged on her robe, as if begging her to stay and protect him. Hecate chuckled quietly and shook her head, "No, Daniel, I can't stay with you and Hadrian, no matter how much I wish to do so. However," She leaned down and kissed the top of his head, before whispering in his ear. "I will always watch over my favorite child and his brother, you have my word on that matter. Be good for your mother and try to keep Hadrian out of trouble, he always seems to attract it no matter what I do." She then turned to her still sleeping son. "I know you can't hear me and probably wouldn't listen anyways, but please be a good boy and don't cause too much trouble. There's only so much stress your poor mother can take... though, perhaps I should say _mothers_."

Despite her comforting words, Daniel refused to let go of her. Hecate sighed as the sound of footsteps grew louder, they were climbing the stairs. She needed to leave quickly, but she didn't want to risk Daniel seeing her true form. She quickly surveyed the room for a suitable distraction, and smiled once again as she noticed a stuffed deer toy resting in the boys' crib. She knew how much both boys loved that toy from many hours of watching over them.

Hecate held out her hand and twitched her fingers, the stuffed deer levitated into the air and began floating to her. Daniel smiled and giggled with joy as his favorite toy floated and flew to the nice lady. Maybe this meant she would stay and play with him longer!

"Look, child," Hecate cooed as she made the deer float around the giggling boy's head. "Little Prongs wants you to smile and play with him!"

Daniel's giggles grew louder as he tried to snatch "Little Prongs" out of the air, but it seemed to have a mind of its own! It would come up to his face and rub its nose against his, only to float just out of his reach at the last second. It was almost like playing tag! After several attempts, Daniel finally grabbed his stuffed friend and gurgled triumphantly! He had won the game! He turned to face the nice woman with a broad smile on his face, only to look on in confusion as he found himself staring at a wall. He looked frantically around the room, but she was nowhere to be found. Hecate had vanished into thin air!

"DANNY! HARRY!" James shouted as he bounded up the stairs, with his wife hot on his heels. Gone was any trace of the brave man who had faced Voldemort himself, James had to see his sons. He had to see them safe in their room, Merlin only knew what he would do if they were gone or harmed in any way.

He ripped open the door, causing it to crash loudly against the wall. Daniel was startled and began crying again, he was afraid another scary person was coming to get him.

James approached his wailing son and sighed in relief, he didn't mind the crying, it just meant that Daniel was alive. But there was only one child wailing. James turned toward Harry, and nearly broke down in tears when he saw his son lying motionless on the floor. The house might _look_ fine, but wards as old and powerful as the ones surrounding Godric's Hollow didn't just fall for no reason.

James barely registered Lily's anguished cry as she fell to her knees next to him and buried her head in his back. She couldn't bare to look. She nearly lost him once and couldn't bare the slightest thought of losing him again! James winced as he felt her nails dig into his shoulders as she gripped him, as if begging him to check and spare her the bad news.

He reached out with shaking hands and brought Harry towards him. He brought his son's tiny chest to his ears and listened for a heartbeat, even a small one would do to comfort him.

_Bum-Bump! Bum-Bump! Bum-Bump!_

"Oh, thank Merlin!" James sighed, hugging his unconcious son to his chest.

"J-James," Lily stuttered as she raised her head slightly. "Is he... Is he..."

James turned to her and presented Harry to her. "He's alive, love," He whispered, as if daring to speak any louder would somehow rip his child's life away. "They're alive! Our boys are alive!"

Lily sobbed with joy and relief! She simultaneously plucked Harry from James' arms, picked Daniel up off of the floor, and brought both boys into a tight embrace. Daniel babbled happily as he nestled into his mother's hug, he was safe again.

"JAMES!" James and Lily jumped in fright as Sirius' voice reached their ears. He bounded into the boys' room, with Remus right behind him, their frazzled appearances showed how affected they were by their friends' frantic departure from Grimmauld Place. Sirius stopped abruptly at the sight of a sobbing Lily clutching both boys to her chest. He opened his mouth to speak but just couldn't find the words, he couldn't bring himself to ask if his godson were dead. He just couldn't.

Remus wasn't fairing much better. His face looked as pale and sickly as it did immediately after one of his monthly transformations. His inner wolf howled with rage at the thought of losing two of its pack members. It thrashed around inside his head, demanding to be let out! It wanted blood! It would track down whoever harmed his pack and rip them limb from limb, along with any who stood in its path! Lupin didn't even register the migraine that his werewolf side was causing, that was nothing compared to the pain he was feeling right now.

James looked to his friends, his brothers in all but blood, and gave a tired smile. He nodded once, that was all they needed.

Siriius let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and leaned against the wall for support. Words just couldn't describe his relief. His pups were alive!

Remus, too, was overjoyed, but his sharp mind was still whirring. Something had gone wrong here! This location was supposed to be kept secret by the Fidellious Charm unless it was revealed by... Peter.

"Where is Peter?" Remus growled. For once, he and the wolf agreed on something: the rat was dead once they found him.

"I don't know," James said, shaking his head. "And right now, I don't really care. My sons are alive, that's all that matters. We'll deal with Peter later."

"Right you are, James," James jumped and sent a glare in the direction of the familiar voice of Albus Dumbledore.

"Do you have to do that, Albus?" He snapped. "Couldn't you announce your prescence without being mysterious for once?"

Albus chuckles. "Forgive me, I do suppose that I should have, especially considering tonight's events. How are they?"

"Daniel is fine, save for a cut on his cheek," Lily answered, speaking quietly. "Harry is unconscious, but seems to be well except for a cut on his forehead."

"I see," the old headmaster said, turning and looking at a bundle of robes and ash on the floor. "Well, that is wonderful news! But, have you checked to see who the attacker was?"

"I haven't checked in person," James admitted. "But the wards told me that very powerful dark magic was present before they were destroyed completely. I don't want to speculate, but there is only one man I can think of with the power the wards measured."

"You don't mean Voldemort, do you?" Lily asked with a small whimper. "If that... _thing_ came after our sons once, he's sure to come for them again, isn't he?"

"If I am correct, he won't be able to do that," Dumbledore replied, gesturing to the pile he had been examining. He reached into the bundled robes, and pulled out a white wand with a bone handle. "I believe that Voldemort did attempt to murder your sons, but either Harry or Daniel defeated him. One of your sons has fulfilled the prohpecy."

James and Lily gaped, in fear and awe. Neither wanted it to be one of their children to be the one prophecized to face Voldemort again. Just once was more than enough for them. "B-But," Lily stammered. "Albus, y-you can't mean that they'll have to- "

"Only one of them is the Chosen One, my dear," Albus said, as if that was supposed to sooth her worries. "The question is: was it Harry or Daniel? Might I examine them for a moment, please?" He asked approaching Lily.

Lily looked as if she wanted to resist, as if she wanted to tell him to stay away and not condemn one of her boys to a life of fighting. After a moment, she looked to James, nodded sadly. They had to know. It wouldn't matter if they hid the true identity of the Chosen One, the prohpecy had already been set in motion. Lily set the boys down on the ground and hung her head. She didn't want this, no parent in their right mind would.

Dumbledore smiled reassuringly and waved his wand, casting a diagnostic spell to check both boys' magical cores. Harry's appeared to be lower than normal, as if it had been drastically lowered by some outside force, while Daniel's seemed as powerful as ever. Dumbledore took a moment to consider this information. It was possible that Harry was the Chosen One, and that his core was weakened by the strain of blocking and deflecting the Killing Curse, his core could always replenish itself in time, but it was unlikely that it would ever fully heal.

However, Daniel's core was just as powerful as it was before. And he was conscious to boot! Could it be that Daniel saw his brother in danger and protected him instinctively? Could this be 'the power that he knows not'?

Dumbledore made his decision. He looked up at the worried parents with a smile and said, "Congratulations, Daniel Potter is the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"How do you know?" Sirius blurted out. "You said that the Dark Lord would mark his equal, both are marked! So how can you tell?"

"Ah, my boy, the explanation is quite simple! Daniel's core is still strong and healthy, while Harry's has been drastically weakened to the point where I strongly doubt that he'll ever reach his full potential. Also, I believe that Harry may be unconscious because Voldemort originally attacked him, but Daniel reacted instinctively to protect his brother! Therefore, the power he knows not is, ironically, the power of love!"

"O-Of course," James said, more than a bit unsure. He looked at Lily and noticed that she had the same opinion of that theory. There was quite a bit of guesswork, no real solid evidence for that. "And how do you suggest we proceed with this?"

"I'm afraid," Albus began with a mournful tone. "That it might be best for Harry to be raised separate from Daniel –"

"Have you gone mad?" James barked, leaping to his feat. "Are you honestly suggesting that we _abandon_ our son?"

"I suggest no such thing, my boy," Albus replied soothingly. "I do, however, feel that Harry may grow to be jealous of his brother's power and greatness. It would be better that Harry grow up separated from Daniel, so he might have a chance to be happy," Seeing the looks of anger on both Potters' faces, he added. "It would only be necessary until their first year at Hogwarts. You have my utmost assurances that he will be returned to you as soon as he reaches his eleventh year."

Before James could retort, Lily spoke in a low, dark voice. "No, he won't," She hissed. "Because I will not let my son be raised by some stranger! I will not leave my child on hold, due to some bloody prophecy!"

Dumbledore raised his hands in a placating gesture. "It won't be a stranger, I promis you! Why, I was actually going to recommend your sister, Petunia –"

"You must be insane!" She shrieked, causing Daniel to cry as he was startled once more. "She has hated everything about me since the day I received my Hogwarts letter!"

"Exactly! This would be a wonderful way to reach out to her and repair your broken bonds!"

"I have reached out to her! I invited her to our wedding! I even congratulated her on her marriage to that Dursley character! But she keeps sending my letters back and demanding that 'a freak' like me stay away from her!"

"Albus," James interjected before the wily old man could say another word. "It's not going to happen. You aren't taking _either_ of our sons, prophecy or not."

"James, my boy, please see reason!"

"I think it's time you leave," Sirius said cooly, as he stepped in between the Potters and Dumbledore, with Remus backing him up.

Dumbledore sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to get his way. "Very well. I do hope to see you all soon." He turned on the spot and left, he had a public to notify.

Unseen to the mortals in the room, Hecate was watching, invisible to all. She restrained herself from ripping that old fool's head off! Who was he to declare her child weak and demand that he be taken to that foul harpy and her fat husband? Oh, she knew all about Petunia and Vernon Dursley, it only took one look into Lily's mind to find all she needed to know about that nosey, jealous bitch!

Hecate took a calming breath and strode out of the room, mentally chanting a new mantra "I will not kill Dumbledore, I will not kill Dumbledore!" But her anger wouldn't cease. The moment she was out of sight, she flashed to her temple on Olympus, perhaps some therapeutic brewing and meditation would sooth her nerves.

**Scene Change – Appolo's Sun Chariot**

The Sun god's head was bowed low as he mentally berated himself. One of his prophecies had just come into play, one he had hoped against hope would never come to pass.

"Forgive me, Hadrian," He muttered as his eyes watered. "I've dragged you from one war-torn life to another."

**Chapter End**

**There it is! The prophecy is in motion and Hecate has shown some of her prowess!**

**To start off, the Latin and Greek I used might be wrong, but I used Goodle translator to get the job done. If anyone has a better source or is willing to translate for me, please send me a PM or leave it in a review!**

**Secondly, yes, the use of Latin in Hadrian's activation code (despite his origins as a Greek demigod) were deliberate and will be explained.**

**Finally, I'm going to go back and fix a couple things in chapter one. I looked over it and realized that I made a few glaring mistakes, probably due to the fact that I spread it out over a month and kept putting it off. Don't worry, it won't be a complete change in the plot, just the elimination of a couple things that I didn't pay attention to. Namely, putting "Hadrian" where I meant to put "Hades" in dialogue at one point, and repeating Hadrian's request that Hecate be notified.**

**Please review and let me know how it was! If you liked it, tell me what you liked about it so I can continue to utlilize that technique, if you didn't, let me know what needs work so I can fix it.**

**Hockeygoalie1992, out!**


	3. Memories That Aren't Mine

**Disclaimer: I do not own the **_**Harry Potter**_** or **_**Percy Jackson and the Olympians**_** series respectively, nor do I claim ownership to any of their characters. I also do not claim ownership to any references of **_**Negima!**_**, **_**Merlin, **_**or any other franchises that may be referenced for purposes of magic.**

**Okay, I'll keep the author's note brief so not to distract from the chapter, but I'd like to mention the possible ban/removal of stories with sexual situations or violence. Neither of my stories fall into this category excessively, but I completely disagree with the actions the site moderators might be taking in the near future. Seriously, a mandatory registration and MA ratings would solve the problem. However, if this does come to pass, I will post my stories on other sites so they aren't lost. In the event that this happens, I will put up a notification on my profile and in my actual stories.**

**That's my note for the chapter, enjoy!**

**Chapter 3: Memories That Aren't Mine**

**Peverell Mansion – England – 1771**

A small, black haired boy was bouncing with joy as he waited for the visitor to arrive. Hadrian Peverell tried to sit still as his father sent him a stern, but somewhat amused, look, but he just couldn't contain his excitement. It had been nearly a month since he'd been able to spend a full day with her, nearly a month since he had her all to himself. Most children wouldn't be able to cope with not seeing their mother for so long, and only sporadically at best.

But Hadrian knew that his mummy was special, daddy had sat him down and told him all about how important she was when he was younger, back when he didn't understand why she had to leave him. He understood that she had an important job to do and had to follow the rules, but that didn't make it any easier for him when she did leave. Then again, it just made it all the more special when he did get to spend time with her.

Thomas Peverell chuckled. "Calm down, son. No amount of bouncing on the sofa will hasten your mother's arrival."

"I know," Hadrian chirped and continued bouncing despite his father's remark. "But I haven't seen her in ages! I can't help it!"

"Ages? You saw her just last week, Hadrian, I'd hardly say that qualifies as ages."

"That doesn't count!" Hadrian said, pouting at the memory. "She was only here for an hour before she was called away again! The last time she spent a full day with me was the day after Marianne's birthday, so it's been ages!" He crossed his arms and nodded firmly, as if he had won a big argument.

"Of course," Thomas said, openly grinning as his son tried to give him a stern look of his own. "How silly of me to contradict you, little one."

"I'm not little," Hadrian said, as he attempted to imitate his father's intimidating glare, the one he usually received as a result of his hijinks.

"Oh?" His father teased, discretely slipping his wand into his right hand. "Then it's just my imagination that you only come up to my knees, I suppose. Perhaps this will help us truly find out how big you are: _Levicorpus_!"

Hadrian yelped in shock as he felt his ankle yanked by an invisible wire and pulled up into the air, causing him to dangle upside down in front of his now laughing father. "Daddy!" He cried, trying to stifle his own laughter and maintain an indignant glare. "That's not fair!"

Thomas feigned an innocent expression. "Whatever do you mean son? I'm just trying to compare your size to mine! Think of it this way, you're finally on my level, _little one_!"

Before the father-son banter could continue, a woman's voice caught their attention. "And you think it's such a mystery where our son gets his mischievous nature from," She said, sounding both amused and exasperated with the men in front of her.

In Thomas' opinion, Hecate still managed to look more and more beautiful every time he laid eyes on her. Her long black hair looked absolutely immaculate, not a strand was out of place, and her emerald green eyes still captivated him just as when they first met nearly seven years ago. Today, she had forgone her black robes, to wear a rather nice, green dress, which managed to bring out her eyes even more than he thought possible. Of course, his silent admiration was cut short by his son's joyful shout.

"Mummy!" Hadrian cried, trying in vain to wriggle free of his father's spell so he could latch onto her.

"Hello, my son," She said, smiling fondly at him before turning to Thomas and raising an eyebrow.

Thomas grinned roguishly and waved his wand to cancel the spell, which caused Hadrian to drop and bounce on the sofa again. "I assume that's what you wanted, m'lady."

Hecate rolled her eyes at the mortal before her. "Sometimes, I wonder which of you two is the child, Thomas," She drawled, smiling as her son seemed to cross the room in an instant to latch onto her at the waste. "But then I remember that my son is as adorable as you are troublesome."

"You wound me, Lady Hecate," He wailed, clutching his chest in mock pain. Hadrian giggled as his parents engaged in their customary battle of wits. "Here I thought we had something special! Oh, woe is me!"

Hecate sighed and picked Hadrian up. "Oh, do be quiet, Thomas! The last thing I need is you corrupting my darling little boy any more than you already have!" She said, ignoring Hadrian's muttered protest at being called little _again_.

"I beg your pardon," Thomas said mockingly, cutting his act and folding his arms across his chest. "Who was it that gave Hadrian two books on Greek and Roman battle magic for his _sixth_ birthday?"

Hecate stayed silent and simply glared at the Peverell Lord, which only served to amuse him even more. Oh, she knew perfectly well that she spoiled her son, but she did it for good reason! She didn't get to see him as often as she liked, so she made up for that by teaching him her craft. After all, Hadrian loved learning and who better to learn from than the goddess of Magic herself? Whenever she visited, she would teach him a new spell, brew a new potion, or even bring him a new book to learn from so he could show his progress next visit. So yes, she did dote on her son, but she made sure that he wasn't lazy or ignorant of magic.

She mentally cursed as her glare did nothing to stop that infuriating smirk from spreading across Thomas' face. He was getting a bit too used to that method of intimidation, she'd have to find a new way to remind him who was in charge without turning him into a puddle of goo. He might infuriate her, but she cared for him, she wouldn't have born his child otherwise.

"Ooh! Ooh! Mummy, Mummy!" Hadrian chattered excitedly, bringing her attention to him once more. "I learned another Roman battle spell since last week, can I show you?"

She happily replied. "My, my, you're learning faster than I imagined, Hadrian. Soon you won't need me to teach you anymore!" Hecate truly dreaded the day when this would be so, but she knew what her son's response would be, it never changed.

As Hecate predicted, Hadrian's eyes widened comically and he immediately denied her claim. "No, no, no!" He cried, shaking his head from side to side. "I'll always need you, mummy! I wanna learn magic and stay with you forever!"

Hecate smiled; she loved hearing him say that. Truthfully, she wished she could go against Olympus on this ordeal and bring him to her Temple so she could watch over him in person, but the Law was quite clear on this.

"I know, darling," She cooed, hugging him tightly. "I want to hold you forever, as well. I wish I could take you with me and you'd stay my little boy forever," She said, before giggling at the face he pulled. "Though, I take it you don't want to be my little baby for so long, hmm?"

"I'm not little!" He said, pouting cutely, in her opinion. "I'm a big boy!"

Hecate smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Of course you are, dear, every mother wants her son to be her little boy forever. It's our nature. Now, why don't you show me that spell you learned? I'm very excited to see it!"

Hadrian grinned from ear to ear. He's been looking forward to this since he finally learned the spell two days ago. He began channeling his magic and visualizing the spell, something his mother told him was important for beginners. Before he could recite the incantation, Thomas stepped in.

"I think it might be best if we take this outside, son," He said. "This one isn't exactly indoor friendly."

"Sorry, daddy," Hadrian said contritely. "I forgot."

"That's alright, son. Just have Timmy take a practice target from the dueling room and set it up outside, your mother and I will meet you there when you're ready."

"Okay! Timmy!" He called, before jumping in fright as a crack sounded just behind him.

A young elf wearing a blue uniform with gold trim appeared behind the startled boy. "Master Hadrian calls for Timmy?" He asked, bowing low.

"Timmy!" Hadrian scolded. "What did I say about scaring me like that?"

"Timmy does not recall, young master," the elf said, sending the boy a mischievous grin.

"You do so recall!" Hadrian accused, not noticing that his parents were snickering behind him. This was just _too_ funny: a mischievous elf for a mischievous boy. Thomas certainly had a sense of humor when he assigned Timmy to be his son's personal elf. "I told you to stop doing it!"

"Timmy understands and will obey," Timmy replied, sending a wink in Thomas' direction. Hadrian still hadn't figured out that Thomas would override his order for the elf not to startle him the moment he was out of sight; he never accounted for the fact that his father's pranks could be just as devastating as his, but in much more subtle ways. It was one of the joys of being a parent: the son could never out prank his father. "What does Master Hadrian need from Timmy?"

Hadrian smiled, satisfied that his friend, servant and partner in crime wouldn't be scaring him anymore. "I need you to help me move a target from the dueling room to the grounds so I can show mummy the spell I learned."

"Timmy will require only a moment, Master Hadrian," The elf replied before muttering. "At least, this time, Master won't destroy his room."

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Master. Timmy will have preparations done in a moment," He said before popping away.

"Son," Thomas said, getting Hadrian's attention. "Aren't you supposed to go outside to help and learn how to set up the target yourself?"

Hadrian thought for a moment before nodding. Daddy wanted him to learn how to do things for himself so he wouldn't be lazy and dependent on house elves for everything, unlike other pureblooded wizards. "Sorry, daddy, I forgot!" He said, before running out of the room and making for the grounds.

Hecate shook her head in amusement. "I see he hasn't quite learned not to run while indoors."

"Oh, he's just excited to see you, m'Lady," Thomas replied.

"I believe I've told you not to call me by title," Hecate said with a frown. "It's hardly fitting for a boy's father to look upon his mother as a master, Thomas."

"Forgive my bluntness, but can you blame me? You are the goddess of Magic, so technically –"

"Enough!" Hecate groaned. "Must you always have the last word?"

Thomas grinned. "I just felt it necessary to explain my point to you, La –" He stopped as he noticed the heated glare Hecate was sending him. "Er… Hecate."

"I'm sure that was your only intention," She said sarcastically, before gesturing to the door. "We'd best make our way to the grounds before Hadrian gets impatient with us."

"Good point. I'm not sure where he gets it from, but he always seems so excitable with these things."

Hecate shot him a look that clearly said "From you, dimwit." But let it pass. As fun as it was to exchange barbs with her former lover, he still had to catch her up on current events. For example, the whereabouts of his mortal wife and daughter. "I noticed that Penelope and Marianne were absent today, is there a problem?" Translation: Am I causing you to have problems with your lawful wife and daughter?

Thomas understood the subliminal message. "No, everything is perfectly fine," He said, waving off her question. "Penelope felt that it would be best for Hadrian and I to spend time with you first, since it has been a while. Both she and Marianne are looking forward to spending time with you later this evening." He then paused as if suddenly remembering something. "Ah, yes. Marianne asked me to thank you, once again, for allowing her to perform wandless magic."

Hecate sighed in annoyance. She'd explained this concept before. "It's not another brand of magic, Thomas. It's simply the ability to perform magic without relying on a focus! We've discussed this many times!"

"My apologies, an old habit brought on by some of our textbooks on magical theory."

"Oh, yes," She spat, knowing all too well _who_ was responsible for that theory. Damn whiny purebloods! "Just because European wizards became too reliant on wands to aid them in their feats that their abilities became watered down to the point of hilarity, the ability simply _must_ be a separate brand of magic! Sometimes, mortal wizards amaze me with their arrogance and ignorance!" She said, breathing heavily as she finished her rant. "However, I am glad that Marianne enjoyed my gift to her. She is a fine young woman."

"Yes," Thomas said fondly. "She was quite eager to test her abilities after the guests left our property. Though, your gift was partially responsible for her engaging in a week long prank revenge war with young Hadrian."

Hecate threw back her head and laughed loudly, already imagining Hadrian's surprise when he realized that his advantage over his older sister was gone. She wished she could've been there to see the look of shock and horror that had likely crossed her son's face. She would have to ask Thomas to let her borrow his Pensieve later, she could use a good laugh, even if it was at her son's expense.

As they finally made it outside, onto the beautiful and spacious grounds of Peverell Mansion, they came across an excited Hadrian, who stood ready and waiting to show off his new spell.

Hecate chuckled as she saw him literally bouncing on the balls of his feet, he was certainly full of energy today. "Ready when you are, dear!" She called.

"Okay, mummy!" He chirped happily before turning his attention to the target. It was a rather standard archery target, with alternating red, white and blue coloration to help the user aim and measure accuracy. Hadrian, being a rather ambitious little boy, wanted to hit a bullseye on his first shot. That would really be a surprise for his mother!

Hadrian closed his eyes and took a deep breath, once again calling on his magic to follow his commands. He opened his eyes, held his hands out in front of himself, and began the incantation. "Mater, commodo me fortitudo!" Hecate smiled slightly as she remembered the translation for his personal activation key, the precursor to his magical spells. It showed just how highly he thought of her as not only a mother, but a deity. "Septem spiritus glacies. Coèuntes, sagittent inimicum meam. Sagitta Magica, Series Glacies!" ("Seven spirits of ice. Come together and strike mine enemy. Magic Arrows, Series of Ice!")"

As Hadrian finished the incantation, seven orbs of purplish, blue light formed around him in an arch, before hardening and shaping into sharpened icicles. Hecate nodded appreciatively as she noticed the power he'd put behind the spell; he hadn't gone overboard and tried for a number he couldn't handle yet, and he didn't overpower it either. In other words, he'd put just the right amount of his magic in. But there was something he didn't do correctly: Aim.

The ice arrows fired off in random directions, some going straight forward and just over his target, others flying off over the grounds before losing their energy and falling harmlessly to the grass. Hadrian had succeeded in performing the basic creation of ice arrows, but he needed a lot of work on his accuracy.

Hadrian slumped over, putting his hands on his knees and trying to regain his breath. He ground his teeth in frustration! How had he messed up so badly? He did it just like before in the training room, so why couldn't he one target now?

"Not bad for a beginner, Hadrian," He turned and noticed that his mother had walked over to stand next to him as he caught his breath. "You put in the right amount of power, now you only have to work on aiming at your target."

"I thought that I did," He said, unable to hide his frustration. "I looked straight at the target and aimed my hands forward, just as the other books said to do!"

"Which books are you speaking of?"

Hadrian shrugged. "I had looked through a couple of the standard defensive spell books approved by the Ministry and they said that all you had to do was point and cast the spell."

Hecate resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, the _Ministry approved_ books. Written by the same buffoons that couldn't dress themselves properly without using some ridiculous household spell. What a waste of her gift! "Those instructions only work if you're using a wand, dear," She said gently. "Without using one, you have to focus your intent not just on the spell, but also on your target, especially when it comes to a spell like Sagitta Magica, since it fires multiple bursts of elemental magic."

Hadrian hung his head in shame. "Sorry, mummy," He murmured. "I should've paid attention to what I was reading."

"Look at me, love," Hecate said, tilting his chin up with her hand and forcing him to look into her eyes. "You made a beginner's mistake, that's expected when you're practicing a new spell. It was a very good attempt."

"Really?" Hadrian asked, looking up at her with his big, emerald green eyes.

"Truly," She responded, pulling him into a tight embrace. She pulled back and looked at him for a moment. "There is one other thing that I should mention, something that will help you avoid tiring yourself out when performing elemental magic."

"What is it?"

Hecate made a show of looking around, as if making sure that no one but Thomas would hear their conversation. "It's a secret," She stage whispered. "Something that you cannot share with anyone save for Marianne."

"I promise, mummy, I promise!" Hadrian answered, once again bouncing in anticipation.

"Very well," She said. "The secret is: you must draw on magic from not only your own core, but from your surroundings as well." Seeing Hadrian's confused look, she continued. "The world around us is filled with magic, Hadrian. The earth, the river, fire, even the air we breathe holds magic. Once you draw on it, you will perform magicks that your peers could only dream of achieving."

Hadrian looked at her in awe. "Really, mummy?" He asked with wonder, happily surprised at both the possibilities and his newfound connection with the world. "There's really magic in everything?"

"Yes, darling, everything. You must open your senses and feel the magic in your surroundings, though. You must be aware of what you can draw in, and what you must provide. Why don't you try for yourself?" She released him as she finished and gestured to the target. "When you're ready, try again."

Hadrian turned to face his target again, and closed his eyes. He called upon his magical aura once again, and reached out to his surroundings. He felt it! It was simply amazing! He could feel the magic in the air, the trees, the rocks, everything just as his mother had said! He couldn't help but smile, he felt connected with it. He was one with the world around him.

Hecate smiled as her son opened his eyes and raised his hands to his target again.

"Mater, commodo me fortitudo! Septem spiritus glacies. Coèuntes, sagittent inimicum meam. Sagitta Magica, Series Glacies!"

In a flash of ice and magic, the target was ripped to pieces before their very eyes. Hadrian had succeeded.

"I did it," He breathed, not believing it at first. "I did it!"

"Well done, son!" Thomas cheered.

"Indeed. Very well done," Hecate said with a smile. "Why don't you and Timmy fix the target and set it up again, practice makes perfect, after all."

"Nuh-uh, mummy!" Hadrian replied, knowing exactly what she wanted him to say in kind. "_Perfect_ practice makes perfect!"

"Of course! How silly of me!" She said, smacking her forehead with her hand as if she'd forgotten something. "Well, hop to it, you little scamp!" Hadrian giggled and called out to Timmy, they had a target to repair.

Thomas approached her, and spoke quietly, so Hadrian wouldn't hear. "You know, I've never seen him so at peace when practicing magic. It almost looked like he felt… whole."

"That is how magic should feel," Hecate said with no shortage of pride in her voice. "I gave mortals the gift of magic, so they could be connected with the world around them and perform wondrous feats. Not so they could laze about and grow fat." She gave Thomas a pointed look, reminding him of how dependent on magic he was to do simple tasks before meeting her.

"Yes, well, you certainly straightened me out," He said ruefully. "But, I do need to speak with you about some of the books Hadrian is learning from. I don't wish to judge, but I do worry about the subject material and… the author."

Hecate raised an eyebrow. Thomas must be talking about a brand of Dark Magic, and a powerful brand at that, for him to be this uneasy. The Peverell family didn't particularly shy away from the Dark Arts, they maintained that it could be wielded with the intent of doing good and protecting, if in the proper hands. They understood that magic, like life, wasn't black and white; Light magic and bravado could be used for evil acts, and Dark Magic and cunning could be used for the good of society. The true determination resided in the will of the user.

"Which books worry you?" She asked. "I don't recall giving him anything too dangerous."

"They weren't from you," He admitted, reaching into his robes and pulling a black book from within. "He stumbled across this in the Peverell Library, I'm not sure how he even found it, I didn't even know we had any of her works."

Hecate took one look at the cover and immediately knew why he was so concerned. _Unleash the Freezing Darkness_ by Evangeline A. K. McDowell contained very powerful Dark and Ice elemental magic. In fact, this made it quite obvious where Hadrian had learned the Sagitta Magica spell; that was one of McDowell's most basic Ice spells.

However, she had faith in her son. "I wouldn't worry too much about it," She said, waving off Thomas' concerns. "I've read that particular book before, there aren't any Dark rituals in that one, but there are some very powerful spells that could prove useful for him later on."

"Are you sure he can handle them?" Thomas asked. "Dark Magic of this high a level corrupts, I'm more worried about that happening than anything."

"Of course I'm sure. After all, he is my son."

**Scene Change – Peverell Castle – England – 1987**

Harry reached out as far as he could as he balanced on the stool, trying to grab a black covered book. He kept having rather odd dreams, dreams that showed him learning magic from another woman and calling her "Mummy". This, of course, was just plain silly. The woman in his dreams had black hair and his mother had beautiful red hair.

However, he had to admit that the dreams did help him find magical books very easily in the Peverell Library. He rather liked living in Peverell Castle. He was glad that his father had moved the family back to their ancestral home, even though Albus Dumbledore "insisted" that such a move was unnecessary. Harry snorted at that, even though he was young, he could tell that the old man liked being in control of everything. The ancient wards surrounding the Peverell's ancestral home took that control away and put it all in the hands of the head of the family, and with James Potter in control, no one but his family and the remaining Marauders could use magic inside the wards.

With a grunt of exertion, Harry grasped the spine of the book and pulled it down, nearly toppling off of the stool in the process. He smiled, he'd found the book from his dreams. _Unleash the Freezing Darkness_ by Evangeline A. K. McDowell, right were it was supposed to be. If there was one thing that Harry loved about his odd dreams, it was the fact that they helped him find a lot of books on very powerful magic. His parents were a bit wary of him practicing some of the Dark Magic he'd found, but they, like the Peverell family of old, didn't see magic as something that was black and white.

Unlike most wizarding children, Harry never experienced any sort of accidental magic. In fact, he was able to control his magic without wielding a wand, something that even Danny couldn't do. According to James, he was the first wizard in all of Europe, perhaps even the world, to be capable of performing magic without some sort of focus since Hadrian Peverell's death. With this in mind, Lily and James gave him permission to study and practice magic.

The only rule they laid down was that he had to be watched by one of them when he was practicing Dark Magic. Elemental Magic was okay for him to work on by himself, but Lily insisted that someone had to be with him "just in case" while he was dabbling in the Darker spells.

Harry smiled as he carried the book over to a nearby table and sat down to read, he knew that mummy just wanted to make sure he didn't hurt himself. In all honesty, she could sometimes be a bit too overprotective of Danny and him, but he wasn't complaining. It was just her way of showing that she loved them both.

Normally, Harry would take the book to his room, but Danny's friend, Ron Weasley was over today, and Danny's room was next door to his. Harry didn't mind spending time with Ron, but he was too loud for Harry to get any sort of studying done. So, he was confined to the vast stores of Peverell Library for right now. Not that he minded; this just gave him an excuse to study and practice all day. He opened the book and flipped through, already knowing what page he needed if his dream was correct, like always. Sure enough, it was; Sagitta Magica was right where his dream said it would be.

The young boy was a bit worried when he first started finding spells as if he already knew where they were, using these memories that weren't his. But after a while, he just chalked it up as coincidence. It just couldn't be possible, this sense of déjà vu had to be a figment of his imagination… Right?

Harry shook his head to rid himself of that thought and started to read the directions for the spell. As he read, he silently vowed that he would thank this Evangeline character if he ever met her. She might be a Dark Mage, but her writing on magical theory and practice was very helpful for him, it was almost as if she wrote this the intention of training an apprentice of her own. Based on what he'd learned from his history books, she was an immortal vampire, so it was possible that she could still be walking the face of the Earth, spreading chaos wherever she went. Evil? Definitely. Brilliant? Even more so. There was a reason she was called The Dark Evangel, and it wasn't dumb luck.

He began reading aloud to himself, mentally thanking his mother for finding a spell to negate his dyslexia. That would've certainly caused him a problem if he didn't have a way around it. "The Sagitta Magica, or 'Magical Archer', spell is useful in many applications due to its ability to send scattered bursts of Elemental, Dark, or Light magic over a wide area. As with all magic, the caster must first have a sufficient intent to use this spell, he or she must visualize the magic as an arrow before this spell can work. A first-time caster should focus on creating and using seven arrows, to get the feel for creating, aiming, and wielding the multiple bursts of magic. With practice, the caster can increase the maximum number of arrows. I, myself, am able to successfully create over one thousand arrows of Ice and Darkness. The incantation for this spell can be found below."

Harry smiled at the description and explanation. She definitely wrote this with teaching on her mind, it was simple enough for a beginner to understand, but still gave a detailed explanation as to the long-term gains of this spell. He was just about to read the incantation, when a familiar voice broke his concentration.

"Blimey, Harry," Ron said from somewhere behind him. "Are you going to stay in this dusty, old library all day?"

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance before turning to face the red headed boy "This library isn't dusty at all, Ron, and I rather enjoy studying as you well know!"

"C'mon, mate! We're going to go out to the pitch and play Quidditch! That's loads better than staying up here and reading! Just put the book down for a couple of hours and you'll see how fun it is!"

"Leave him alone, Ron," Danny said, walking in behind his friend. "If Harry wants to study, let him. He'll come out when he's ready." He mouthed "I'm sorry about him" in Harry's direction, drawing a smile from his younger brother. Danny never made fun of him for studying.

"But, mate, it's Quidditch!" Ron cried as if appalled at the idea that anything could be more important. "If he wastes his entire life studying he'll become a bookworm!"

"Studying isn't a waste of time," Harry snapped.

"Calm down, you two," Danny said, sending a glare at Ron when he opened his mouth to retort. "Harry will come out and play when he feels like it, not on someone else's time."

"Fine," Ron grumbled, turning away and storming out of the library. "Ruddy bookworm can stay in here with the dusty old books, see if I care!"

The Potter twins silently stared in the direction the short-tempered boy had gone in, and sighed in annoyance. Even Danny would admit that his best mate was a bit intolerant of other people's ideas or hobbies.

"Sorry, Harry," Danny muttered. "I knew you were in here and tried to keep him out while you studied."

Harry sighed, his good mood sufficiently spoiled. "It's fine," He said as he ran his hand through his hair. "I know how he can get."

"Yeah," Danny said with a chuckle. "He has his bad moments, but he usually means well. You will come out soon though, right?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Depends how much I feel like reading."

"Vague as always, huh? Okay, I guess that's the best I'll get out of you," Danny said, before turning and checking outside the door for the other Weasley boys, he didn't want them to hear the next part. "Will you show me what you found later? After the Weasleys leave?"

Harry, nodded, he knew exactly what his brother meant by that: Danny was a tad envious that he could control and practice magic so well, but he was very supportive. He loved seeing Harry show off a new spell he'd dug up from the Peverell Library.

If anything, both boys had something the other didn't. Harry had his magic and Danny was known to the public as "The Boy-Who-Lived." Harry loved to tease his brother about the media attention he would get for the simplest things, such as going to Diagon Alley with their mother or going to a Puddlemere United game. The Potters didn't particularly care for all of the media attention for two main reasons.

First of all, James and Lily didn't enjoy their fame, nor did they love one child more than the other. They just wanted to be left alone and to have a happy life with their children. Danny and Harry thought along the same lines; neither cared that Dumbledore had made a snap decision five years ago; both brothers loved each other and just wanted to have fun. This leads into the second reason, no one actually knew which of them was "the Chosen One."

Sure, Dumbledore had publically announced that it was Danny, but James and Lily weren't convinced. His reasoning behind it had been very sketchy; yes, Harry's magic was significantly weaker than Danny's that night, but it could easily have been due to his magic blocking Voldemort's attack. Both boys were completely healthy, other than Harry's dyslexia and short attention span, and came out of the attack with scars. In their mind, it didn't matter which child it was, Harry and Danny were their children, they were Potters. And that was all that mattered.

Danny grinned and hurried out of the room, shouting his thanks over his shoulder. Whatever Harry had found, it was sure to be spectacular. It always was.

Harry thought for a moment and decided to take the book with him to the dueling room, so he could train there instead of messing up the library. He made that mistake once before and Lily had grounded him for a week. Harry winced at that particular memory, he'd never seen her so mad at him before, but that was probably because he'd nearly destroyed an entire shelf full of her charms books. That was one lecture he didn't need to experience again.

"Trixie!" Harry called, before jumping in fright and falling out of the chair as a loud crack from behind him rang in his ears. "Merlin and Morgana!" He cried, before looking up and glaring at his personal elf.

A young, female elf, wearing a blue maid's outfit with gold trim bowed low, hiding a mischievous grin from her young master. "Master Harry calls for Trixie?"

Harry leapt to his feet and folded his arms across his chest, trying his best to look stern. He hated when she scared him! "What did I tell you about doing that, Trixie?"

"Trixie does not recall, young Master," The young elf replied, trying her very best to look innocent.

"You do so recall –" Harry stopped abruptly as he felt that sense of déjà vu hit him again. This felt very familiar. But, why? Sure, this was a common routine between his elf and he, but why did it feel so wrong to be scolding Trixie? It was almost as if it didn't make sense, as if he should be saying a different name and arguing with a different elf.

"Master Harry? MASTER HARRY!" Trixie's shout jolted her young master from his thoughts. "Is Master Harry feeling okay? Does Master need to rest?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "I'm fine, Trixie. I just… remembered a very odd dream I had last night."

"Is master sure? Trixie can inform Mistress Lily that young Master is feeling ill?"

"No, thank you, Trixie," He said, smiling reassuringly at his overprotective friend. "I'm fine, I promise."

Trixie looked up at him with a critical eye and put her hands to her hips; she looked too much like his mother right now for Harry's liking. "Master Harry had better not be lying, or Trixie will tell Mistress straight away!"

"Aw, c'mon, Trix," He mock whined, pulling his own innocent face. "I would never lie to you!"

"Fine, but Trixie will watch Master Harry to make sure!"

Harry didn't bother protesting. If he did, Trixie would go straight to his mother and tell her that he seemed ill, and then he wouldn't be able to practice anymore. His little elf had certainly picked up his mother's stubbornness along with her overprotective nature. "That's alright with me, I was just going to ask you to help me prepare a target in the dueling room for some spell practice. It's an Elemental spell!" He said the last part quickly, to prevent her from demanding that he wait until his parents could watch him. "Mummy said that I could practice basic Elemental Magic by myself."

Trixie nodded, before offering her hand to her boy. "Very well, Trixie will take Master Harry to the duely room."

"Thanks, but I can walk. There's really no need –"

"Master Harry _will_ come with Trixie so she can watch and make sure he isn't sick!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming!" Harry said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "Just let me get my book!"

"Trixie will wait as long as needed to take Master Harry."

"Sometimes I do wonder which of us is in charge," Harry muttered, as he took hold of the elf's tiny hand and bracing himself for the sickening effect of an elf's popping magic. In his opinion, it was almost as bad as side-along apparition or taking a portkey.

Harry winced as he felt the unwelcome sensation of being sucked through a straw, before falling flat on his face as they arrived in the dueling room. He rose to his feet shakily, ignoring the fact that Trixie was giggling at his inability to land properly. He'd get her later, maybe he'd turn all of her uniforms black for a week, just so she would go spare trying to restore them to their proper blue color.

As he got to his feet, he noticed that a target was already set up. Before he could ask, Trixie explained for him. "Master Harry comes to this room so often that Master James decided to leave one target out and put a Self-repairing Charm on it."

Harry's expression brightened as he realized what this meant. He could practice magic on this target as long as he wanted, and it would fix itself automatically. Today had just gotten a lot better. But before he could practice, he needed to actually learn the incantation.

Once again, it was just too familiar for this to be a coincidence. The moment Harry read the incantation; he knew that he had some memory of it. _This is too weird,_ he thought. _How can I have memories that aren't mine? I'm certain I've never seen this spell before!_

He closed the book and decided to ignore his own feelings of unease. He could figure this out later, now it was time to work on some magic. Harry closed his eyes and focused on bringing out his core, just as he had done so many times before.

Suddenly, he had an idea. His dreams, though incredibly odd, had never steered him wrong before, so maybe he should follow what he'd seen. Maybe he should try to draw on his surroundings and use that magic along with his own, it certainly couldn't hurt to try. It worked. He felt the magic around him and felt complete, he was one with the world around him.

Harry took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and began, using an activation key that felt comfortable to him for some unexplained reason. "Mater, commodo me fortitudo. Septem spiritus glacies. Coèuntes, sagittent inimicum meam. Sagitta Magica, Series Glacies!"

It worked. Just like in his dream, sharpened icicles formed and were sent hurdling towards the target, easily ripping it to shreds. Harry grinned as the target reformed himself and Trixie cheered behind him, it felt so right.

"Master Harry is amazing as always!" Trixie cheered. "Will young Master be practicing more or is he done for the day?" She asked, she already knew his answer but she was required to make sure.

"I'll be practicing a while longer, Trixie," The black haired boy said with a grin. "After all, practice makes perfect."

As he turned to face the now repaired target, Harry could've sworn he heard a young boy's voice whisper in his mind.

"_Nuh-uh, mummy! Perfect practice makes perfect!"_

**Scene Change – Hecate's Temple – Mount Olympus**

Hecate smiled as she watched the scene play out inside her crystal ball. Hadrian was just as eager to learn as ever, and even more determined to perfect his chosen craft. She wiped a tear from her eye as she watched her little boy cast the spell again and again, just as he had two hundred years before.

"Well done, Hadrian," She said with pride. "Well done, indeed."

**Chapter End**

**There it is! Chapter three is in the books!**

**Kindly review and let me know what you liked about it or what you hated about it! Thanks!**


	4. Master of Puppets

**Disclaimer: I do not own the **_**Harry Potter**_** or **_**Percy Jackson and the Olympians**_** series respectively, nor do I claim ownership to any of their characters. I also do not claim ownership to any references of **_**Negima!**_**, **_**Merlin, **_**or any other franchises that may be referenced for purposes of magic.**

**It's taken me longer than intended to get this chapter going, so I apologize for that. I've been looking for a part-time job, so that's my top priority right now. My car isn't going to pay off itself.**

**Anyways, here it is, enjoy!**

**Chapter 4: Master of Puppets**

Albus Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth and leaned back into his chair, he was dealing with a rather troubling problem: James and Lily Potter, his star pupils and Order members, had been going against his wishes for the last few years. Ever since that night, they had opposed him and blocked any of his attempts to meet their children without their presence. Their trust in him had been shaken beyond repair.

This simply would not do. The Potters needed to trust him completely and obey his orders for his plan to work; it had to work for the greater good of the Magical World! But they didn't see it that way. James and Lily vehemently refused to allow him to train Daniel, one of the candidates for the title of the Chosen One.

That's right, one of the candidates. Dumbledore had lied on that fateful Halloween night. Daniel Potter was not the Chosen One. Actually, that wasn't quite right either.

Truth be told, he couldn't be sure which of the boys was the prophesized savior of the world, both were powerful in their own right. Daniel's core had grown quite nicely for a boy his age, his bursts of accidental magic had been both wondrous and encouraging for the masses of the Magical World, and his friendly attitude only added to the public's love for him.

Harry, on the other hand, was a completely different matter. His core had indeed been dangerously low following Voldemort's attack on Godric's Hollow, but it had replenished and continued growing at an almost unbelievable rate! If Dumbledore's last scan of the boy's core was correct, his core was at the level of most wizards following their magical maturity! As for his accidental magic, there was none. The boy had damn near perfect control of his magic!

Dumbledore scowled at that little piece of information. Harry was a problem. The boy's power and control were at a level matched by only one wizard in recorded history, a man that the Ministry and Dumbledore had done their very best to erase all memory of over the years.

Hadrian Peverell, an ancestor to the Potter line. The very man James had named Harry after. That man's name still resonated in the nightmares of Pureblood supremacists, tales of his viciousness in battle were told to show young Pureblood children that Blood Traitors were just as barbaric as the Mudbloods they protected. Even as an eleven-year-old, he showed no mercy to his victims, no remorse for his actions, he even openly mocked the Wizengamot by using obscure laws and doctrine to make his actions legal.

Dumbledore could sympathize with Hadrian's views on the folly of blood supremacy, but his methods were too extreme. Hadrian Peverell performed many spectacular feats of magic, but his deeds certainly earned him all of his nicknames, especially the most infamous of all.

Hadrian the Bloody: the boy who became a monster to destroy the monsters of the Magical World. If there was anything Albus Dumbledore feared, it was the mere thought that another Hadrian Peverell would be born into the world. For that reason, he removed all books that gave the slightest mention of the Demon of Peverell Castle's name from the Hogwarts Library and hid them deep within his vault at Gringotts. He even tried to convince James to do the same, for the greater good of course.

He had been so sure that James would understand that the world didn't need another bloodthirsty murderer walking the streets of Diagon Alley again, and those books would be just the thing to inspire someone to follow Hadrian's fall into the darkness. But James didn't care. He didn't care that the Ministry, all of the high Pureblood society, and even Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindewald, viewed his ancestor as a dark wizard and made sure to teach that fallacy at Hogwarts.

Hadrian Peverell was a hero to James Potter. He had even somehow convinced Lily, Sirius, and Remus that Hogwarts' had misled them during their History class, the few that weren't on Goblin Rebellions, anyway. He was even allowing young Harry and Daniel to read those stories; he was actually teaching them that Hadrian's intentions were noble! He was giving them the idea they should follow Hadrian's example and stand up against the masses!

Dumbledore wouldn't allow it! The Magical World didn't need Hadrian the Bloody then, and they certainly didn't need another as their savior! No. Dumbledore's plan would come to pass, and it would not fail!

He knew what the power the prophecy spoke of was. After all, there was only one force that Voldemort didn't know, only one thing that he'd been denied in his life: Love. That would be the key to vanquishing him once and for all! But there were many different kinds of love, and both boys had very different personalities. But Dumbledore had planned for that since that night.

Both boys were very different, but both had the same capacity to put others above themselves. With Danny, it was more widely known that he greatly loved the Magical World. Even though he despised his fame with a passion, he always tried to be polite to others and didn't judge based on blood status. The boy even showed respect to magical creatures, not surprising since his parents were friends with a half-giant and a werewolf. Nevertheless, Danny was literally THE golden child. His happy and outgoing attitude were exactly what the Magical world needed to see; he was like a white knight, a man who loved his world so much that he would gallantly lay down his life. That was the savior from within the Magical World that was needed. A knight.

Harry, however, was not like his brother. He wasn't rude to others, nor did he judge based on blood status, but he was quiet and reserved. His eyes didn't light up when people came to interview him about the honor of having the Chosen One for his elder brother, nor did he talk excitedly about how happy he was to live in the same house as Danny. Instead, he gave brief replies before ignoring them entirely.

"He's my brother, that's all that matters."

"He's fun to hang around with."

"We'd both rather be watching Quidditch than talking with you."

"I'm happy to have a brother, now please stop shoving your camera in my face."

"Oh, is he the Boy Who Lived? I thought he was Danny. How silly of me."

The boy was sarcastic, and witty. Dumbledore had to admit that some of his little quips were amusing, but they won him no favors or admiration among the population. It was almost as if the boy were deliberately telling the world that he didn't care for their approval, that all he needed was his family. That wouldn't do.

If Harry turned out to be the Chosen One, then he needed to be meek. He would probably never be as outgoing as his brother, he'd never be the knight in shining armor. Therefore, it was only logical that he needed to be the meek, shy and malleable boy, who looked at the Magical World as a utopia that needed to survive, and Albus Dumbledore as the man who would save him from a miserable life.

Harry had to be raised by his muggle relatives, not because Dumbledore wanted to train his brother, but because he needed to be a willing sacrificial lamb. Albus Dumbledore needed both boys to be raised in completely different settings: one in a lavish, loving lifestyle where he would know the admiration his world held for him, so he'd be their messiah. The other in isolation and abuse, so he would literally have no sense of self, he would hold on to any who spared him the slightest glance. He would lay down his life to save a civilization.

It was a risky experiment, but Dumbledore knew it had to be done. It was for the greater good. But the question still remained: how would he force James to turn custody of Harry over to the Dursleys? It would take either the Imperious Curse or some sort of legislation designed to force parents to give up their children if they hadn't shown any signs of magic…

The old man's eyes twinkled. He knew what needed to be done. And he knew which of his puppets to string along to make it happen.

But he was not a cruel man; he would give James one last chance to willingly give up his son before manipulating the Ministry to do his bidding. After all, he had an image to maintain, and he would hate to lose it. He stood up and walked over to his fireplace, grabbing a pinch of Floo Powder from the dish on the mantle and tossing it into the fire. "Severus," he called. "I need to have a word with you."

**Chapter End**

**This was the shortest chapter I've ever written, but it was more to set the stage than anything. I wanted to give you an insight into Dumbledore's thinking since I left him looking like a moron in chapter 2. Next chapter should be out soon.**

**Please review and tell me what you liked or didn't.**


	5. A Woman Scorned

**Disclaimer: I do not own the **_**Harry Potter**_** or **_**Percy Jackson and the Olympians**_** series respectively, nor do I claim ownership to any of their characters. I also do not claim ownership to any references of **_**Negima!**_**, **_**Merlin, **_**or any other franchises that may be referenced for purposes of magic.**

**Sorry that it's been so long since I updated, I had to put my stories on hold while I searched for a job. **

**10 August 2012 - After reading through the reviews from this story, different pairings and different ideas have been proposed to me by the readers. A couple of you asked that I have Evangeline McDowell be involved in this story in some way, be it in a cameo or in an arc, another person recommended the possibility that she be the one paired with Harry. I've spoken with this person through PM, and the idea is interesting; this person rationalized that since Hecate showed a measure of disdain for the way wand-waving wizards handicap themselves, she wouldn't want Harry to get romantically involved with someone who she perceived as lazy. She also encouraged Thomas Peverell to allow Hadrian to learn from Eva's book in chapter three. So, with that in mind, I've created a poll on my profile. You, the readers, will decide whether or not the Dark Evangel has a role in this fic, and what that role will be if you want her in. I will close the poll at 11:59 P.M. E.S.T. this Wednesday, August 15th. I encourage you all to cast your vote. Your input is appreciated.  
**

**Chapter 5: A Woman Scorned**

**Diagon Alley, London, England - 1988**

Severus Snape was not happy.

In fact, calling him miserable would be an understatement. This was a day he'd been hoping to avoid, hoping would never come. This was the day in which he'd have to look his former friend in the eye and speak to her for the first time since fifth year.

He would have to face Lily Potter, the mother of the boys he'd sold out to his former master.

He had prayed that this day would never come, that he could just lock himself away in his dungeon, to live out his days as the surly potions master of Hogwarts. He didn't want to face the friend he'd hurt with his words and betrayed in his blind faith to a delusional psychopath.

But Dumbledore, Albus bloody Dumbledore, had ordered him to seek her out when she was alone, when she was away from the safety of Peverell Castle and without her husband to protect her.

Snape's hands clenched into tight fists at the mere memory of James Potter, the bully from his school days. Oh, how he _loathed_ that man with every fiber of his being! The name calling, the pranks, the fact that he had the audacity to _save his life_!

The man who married Lily Potter.

Snape forced his anger down, as he'd been doing for years, and reminded himself that James Potter wasn't going to be here. Lily was, she was his objective. He was hesitant to take this mission, but Dumbledore had been quite clear that it was necessary that he play the remorseful friend, who wanted to mend the bonds he'd broken in his blind fury. He had to reinsert himself into her life and regain her trust, so he could express his concern regarding a most grave matter.

He would hint that Harry, her darling little boy, would grow jealous of his brother's fame and power, and that she should send him to live with another family until he was ready. She should send him away until he could understand that his brother was simply _better_ than he was and that he should simply appreciate even being granted the privilege of living in the magical world.

Snape knew exactly what Dumbledore meant by all of that. He wanted the boy to grow up without his parents' love, he wanted the boy to see the magical world as some utopia that must be preserved at all costs. Dumbledore wanted the boy to be a good little soldier and do everything that he was told. Hell, Dumbledore had even told him so.

The boy was to be torn down and broken until Dumbledore said that he was ready to be readmitted into the magical world.

It was all just a means to a necessary end. Snape knew that the Dark Lord wasn't gone for good; he was waiting, biding his time. Unfortunately for the boy, Snape had to agree with Dumbledore's logic. He was one life, the vast population of the magical world was far more important than his happiness. If the magical world would be saved by Potter's brat being molded into a soldier, a slave or resigned to being nailed to a bloody cross like Jesus Christ, Snape would see it done. His world would be preserved.

The only problem was Lily.

She would hate him for it. Hell, he would hate himself for condemning a boy to abuse and death, but the lives of millions of witches and wizards outweighed that of one boy.

Now, Severus Snape was no fool; he knew full well that she would never let one of her boys go willingly. But he had to do it. Even if it meant planting the seed of doubt in his former friend's head, he had to make her fear that one of her son's would betray the other in a fit of jealousy. In short, he had to convince her that Harry was just as susceptible to the temptation of power as Peter Pettigrew.

His chances weren't good and he knew it.

Lily would never forget what he'd done to her in school, and she'd never forget that he'd joined the Dark Lord during the war. No matter how many times Dumbledore defended him with claims that he was a spy, loyal to the Order, the rest of the members knew what he'd done.

Some of them had watched him do it.

Severus was shaken from his thoughts by a flash of red hair moving through the crowd. He watched carefully, waiting to confirm that it was her and not that shrew, Molly Weasley, or that old battleax from the Auror Department, Amelia Bones. Upon closer inspection, he found that it was indeed Lily's beautiful auburn hair. She was here. He watched from afar as she moved through the crowd, slipping past her son's adoring fans quietly, usually only giving them a smile or a one word answer before informing them that she had somewhere to be.

Fame didn't matter to Lily; her posture and attitude clearly showed that she just wanted to get what she needed and leave as quickly as possible. Severus waited until she ducked into Flourish and Blott's, and began to make his way over to her. It was time to make his move.

Lily Potter sighed in exasperation as she brushed past _another_ crowd of awestruck fans and admirers. She couldn't even walk into a bloody bookshop without being hounded by these people! Didn't they have lives? Didn't they have better things to do than to ask her useless and ridiculous questions about Danny?

"Where's Danny? Where's the savior of our world?"

"Mrs. Potter! Mrs. Potter! Can you please get your son to autograph my poster of him? I'm his biggest fan!"

"No you're not! I'm his real biggest fan!"

Dear Merlin, she was going to lose what little sanity she had left. She was beginning to see why James quit his job at the Ministry and started sending House Elves to do their shopping; these bloody people just refused to let their family live in peace! If one more reporter asked her what Daniel had for _breakfast_ this morning, she'd hex them into the next dimension!

Lily took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind, losing her temper while in her favorite store in the Alley wouldn't do her any good. The number of stores she could enter without having to deal with hoards of reporters or sycophantic shopkeepers was rapidly shrinking, so far only Ollivander, Fortescue, and Blott treated her like a normal person.

Unfortunately, nothing would soothe her irritation. From the moment she'd arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, there had been no peace for her. Lily sighed in frustration as she browsed the bookshelves, not looking for any specific kind of book. She barely registered the fact that she'd been staring at the same shelf for the last five minutes; in all honesty, she was just reveling in the momentary silence that her aimless search had afforded her. Perhaps today would be better, perhaps today she'd be able to finish her business without any aggravation.

The silence, along with her good mood, was broken by a familiar voice. One she'd hoped never to hear again. "Lily."

She looked to the ceiling in annoyance, biting back the volley of swear words she wanted to let loose, and turned to gaze coldly at her former best friend. "You have a lot of nerve to even consider speaking to me, _Snape_!"

Snape visibly flinched at the contempt in her voice. To think that Lily, sweet, gentle Lily, could utter his name so venomously! It was almost enough to make him lose his nerve! He wanted nothing more than for the earth to open up beneath him and take him whole.

But he pressed on. "You look… well."

Lily looked at him disdainfully, as if judging whether or not he was even worthy of the _breath_ it would take her to insult him. Finally, she spoke. "I must say, I find myself in a rather odd position. On one hand, I've run into a childhood friend whom I haven't seen since graduation. On the other, I have the misfortune to run into the same childhood friend who called me a _mudblood_ in front of the entire school during our fifth year."

Snape unconsciously stepped back. She certainly wasn't pulling any punches today; good thing he'd cast a _Muffliato_ to prevent anyone from listening in. "That was a horrible mistake! Nothing more!"

"A mistake, you say? I recall you becoming quite popular amongst your housemates immediately afterwards, and you seemed to enjoy that popularity quite a bit."

"I was young! I was foolish!" He insisted desperately. "You know how starved for companionship I was back then! You know exactly what my childhood was like!"

He didn't know when Lily closed the distance between the two of them, but he suddenly realized that she was within striking distance of him, and judging by the redness of her face, she was _very_ close to throwing a punch. Of course, that was only if she had been in a good mood before this little impromptu meeting.

He mentally counted over a list of spells that his former friend could hit him with before he could bring his wand up to defend himself, and shuddered. He wasn't even going to bother counting those that would do permanent harm.

"Don't you dare try to pull that guilt trip on me!" She hissed. "Yes, I _do_ know exactly what your childhood was like! I know exactly how miserable you were! I was bloody well there! I was there for you through all of it! And yet, you throw me away like garbage as soon as things are going bad for you! I tried to help you and you chose to conform to what _they_ wanted you to become!" She paused for a moment and stepped back, lowering her eyes to look at the ground between them. She seemed to either be considering what to say next or trying to reign in her mounting fury.

Snape couldn't bring himself to speak, he stepped back once more, as if trying to find an escape route. Oh, he knew full well that she was right. She had every right to spit on him, to curse his name to Hell and back! The betrayals she'd suffered at his hands gave her every right to hate him. His dared to hope that her anger and knowledge stopped at the incident in fifth year. If she knew what he'd done after school, if she knew that _he_ was the one to set the Dark Lord on her family... No! Dumbledore promised that he would tell no one!

"I was your friend," She whispered, before raising her head to look him in the eyes once more. Her glare had intensified a thousand fold. "I genuinely cared for you! But it obviously meant nothing to you! You threw me aside for popularity, just like you threw my family in the path of the Dark Lord for the sake of power!"

Oh, shit. He was dead.

Snape's eyes widened in horror as he literally stumbled back into a bookshelf. "H-How?"

Her wand was in her hand, he noted. Aimed directly at his heart. "Did you really think that Pettigrew's capture was where it stopped, _Snape_?" She snarled. "Did you think that we would assume that Peter Pettigrew, a sniveling, little coward, had the resources, the cunning, the utter gall to listen in on Albus Dumbledore while the Prophecy was being made?"

"I-I didn't know, I swear!" He stammered. "The moment I found out that it was your family, the very instant he announced it, I begged him to spare you! I begged Dumbledore to protect you!"

"He never spared his victims and you know it, Snape! You only begged for my life in hopes that I'd come running into your arms for comfort after my husband died! You were hoping that with his and our sons' deaths, you would have finally gotten one over on him!"

The wand tip was glowing a sickly green now, Snape fell to his knees in horror and resignation. She knew. Somehow, she'd learned the truth, despite Dumbledore's assurances.

And now, her greatest desire was to kill him where he stood; her wand was already glowing with that foul green light of the Killing Curse, begging it's wielder to say the word and let the magic loose.

"While my husband and his friends were looking for Pettigrew," Lily continued, barely above a whisper. "While they were off playing the vengeful lions of Gryffindor, as it were, I knew that someone would've had to tell Voldemort the Prophecy! I searched for the one who desired my family's downfall! But the moment I discovered that _you_, of all people, were the one, you were cleared of all charges. On Dumbledore's word! You were cleared because you were 'his spy'. How convenient for you, that the moment I was going to hand your worthless carcass over to the Dementors, that bloody Saint Dumbledore opened his mouth and preached to the masses. And like the sheep they are, they listened to _every damned word_.

"But I knew!" Snape shuddered as she stepped toward him, wand aimed directly between his eyes. "I knew the truth! I knew that you sold my family to Voldemort for power, for a place in his promised 'New World Order'! But who would listen to me? Who would listen to a Muggleborn woman, even if she was the Lady of _two_ Ancient and Noble Houses? Who would listen to a pathetic, sniveling _mudblood_ when, on the other hand, Albus Dumbledore preached the exact opposite of what she was saying?"

Snape pushed himself back against the bookshelf in fear. This was it! He was going to die at the hand of the woman he loved more than anything in the world! Quite frankly, he couldn't really fault her. He wouldn't spare someone who had marked his family for death, let alone remain sane if he found that person to be someone he considered a friend. He closed his eyes and turned his head, waiting for her to kill him. Waiting for death to take him from this miserable excuse for a life.

But it never came. Lily somehow reigned in her temper and withdrew her want, placing it back in the holster hidden in her robes. "Killing you is something I've wanted more than anything else in this world for the last six years," She said, voice devoid of any emotion. "But, I know full well that I'd only be hurting my sons by going to Azkaban. In fact, I think I've changed my mind on the matter. I want you to _live_, Snape. I want you to watch my family live happily while you waste away in your dungeon until your master decides to let you out to see sunlight. That is my punishment for you. My family will live on and thrive, while you mourn for your ruined life."

She turned and strode away, wanting to leave before she truly lost control of her raging temper. So much for a nice, relaxing day in Diagon Alley. She hastened herself, she needed to get home to her husband and children; hopefully, the sight of her loved ones would calm her down. She ignored those around her, pushing by women who tried to gossip with her and young girls who begged her to introduce her to Daniel; she was so sick of it all! She just wanted it all to stop! Hang the reporters, the fans, and the two-faced friends! She didn't need any of it!

She didn't _want_ anything but to be with James and watch their boys grow up!

**Chapter End**

**That's it for chapter five. I originally intended for it to be longer, but decided that this was a great place to stop. I mean, the title pretty much spells out that it was mostly about Lily. Plus, she's a very important piece to the story.**


End file.
